He Let Me Live
by SageQuill
Summary: The sequel to 'I Let Them Go'. Sector Seven should have been the end. She was wrong. Now, in a world of misguided trust and betrayal, a former Turk must learn to survive for the freedom she seeks. New chapter posted! "Feral Encounter"
1. A Prisoner of Fate

**Whew, the Muse has finally decided to return from her mental vacation after a _long _hiatus. Many thanks to all who have read 'I Let Them Go' and given positive and constructive feedback on it. For those of you returning for the sequel, welcome back. If you haven't read it yet and are just tuning in, I recommend that you do (that's entirely up to you though so you know what's happening in this fic) and I welcome you to the story. :) Not that it really needs said again, but this is a continuation of a "What-if" mentality, so who knows where it will end up. (The Muse doesn't even know that yet, which makes for interesting, or at least I hope it's interesting, believable writing.) Anyway, ranting aside, I hope you all enjoy this chapter (and hope that it doesn't disappoint anyone's expectations...) folks and remember to let me know what you think of it. I don't bite. Promise. ;)**

**Chapter One - A Prisoner Of Fate**

How long have I been here?

The silken curtain of darkness continues to rest across my vision in a sinister, yet welcoming barrier between myself and whatever resides beyond its merciful protection. I've lost track of all time, my only window to the outside world now whatever I manage to hear in the brief moments of lucid thought I seem to have been allotted by someone who either does not want me to hear certain things, or just doesn't care anymore.

That feeling of helplessness, a heavy weight pressing my eyes closed and my entire body against this odd feeling surface I seem to have been sentenced to spend whatever miserable life I've managed to carve out for myself in. A hospital bed. I've gathered that much from what little I managed to see in those precious few seconds of consciousness. I'm in a hospital. Somewhere.

Note to self. Next time the Lifestream offers you a spot in it, make damn sure to appreciate it a little bit more, not matter how much it sucks. What comes with escape afterwards is much worse.

A sharp stab of pain from somewhere in the vast oblivion, vanishing just as quickly as it appears. That's become a lot more frequent lately. I want to draw away from it, but a strong force holds me in place, preventing any and all movement, no matter how horrible the pain gets. This is Hades. It has to be. There's no way I survived any of whatever the hell happened to me.

What happened to me…What did happen in those seconds when the stars fell and I awoke on the Lifestream's less than elaborate doorstep?

The click of leather-soled footsteps across what appears to be linoleum, jumbled voices I can't quite completely understand creeping through the dull, steady drone of the void. Like another form of ocean. Yes. A dull, labored echo like some sort of beacon calling to lost ships and the hiss of waves rolling back and forth in the distance, somewhere. A gentle, albeit rather chilly ocean, submerging me beneath its obsidian waves and I don't have the strength to fight back this time.

I don't remember being anywhere near any oceans though. And sand. The odd substance sifts through my fingers, the flicker of cerulean moonlight drifting over the waves forming through the obsidian curtains of stagnant darkness painted across the world around me. How did I get here? A few seconds ago, I was - it's happening again. Damn it.

This is really starting to get old. I'm either trapped in the grasp of the darkness, restricted by some powerful force that prevents even the faintest inkling of motion, or cast out to a location I can vaguely recall being to over my lifetime. A dream world. Fate has a fickle sense of humor.

The light of the moon cascades across the bluffs in a steady stream of continuous brilliance, making me flinch with the sting of discomfort to my eyes. It hurts to even think about trying to see much of anything through that light. Just like the light of the Lifestream.

Zack. I tried to fight Zack on these shores. That tide pool over there, by the towering bluffs. Rekka landed there when he struck it down with the Buster Sword. But that's impossible. Nibelheim. How did I get to Nibelheim when I am supposed to be in the hospital?

I'm sure I was in the hospital. I saw it. Reno and Tseng. They were talking. Something about having done 'all that they could' for me.

All that they could…

What exactly did they mean by that? A quiver of fear whisks across my shoulders, making me cower closer to the bluffs. I'm still wearing this dingy midnight blazer and dusty tie, just like that night. Something happened to me. Something horrible. I can feel it in the wind rushing through the crags in the stone off the waves of the ocean and the ferocious tides beneath the moon's violent grace.

I'm dreaming. I have to be dreaming.

The darkness rushes across the sands with the sudden waves of imposing water, at least I think that it is water. For all I know it could be something a lot like the Lifestream's waters, only much worse. Those waters didn't hurt half as much. A painful spasm grasps my muscles and sends me plummeting back into the blanket of the endless darkness.

I'm beginning to feel like some sort of mistreated chocobo, allowed a brief walk of freedom every so often on a very short tether, but crowded into a far-too-small stall to suffer for the remainder of whatever time I have left of this miserable life just when I'm starting to enjoy being able to move under my own free will. This is a punishment, isn't it?

A screech of metal being dragged somewhere off to the side, someone lowering themselves onto it with the soft creak of tired muscles. That sound. I've heard it before, many times before. I know this person, just by the way they move, that gentle caressing warmth enveloping my hand through the darkness and the confident warble of distant words across the abysmal darkness reaching towards me.

"_Morning, Cissnei. Thought I'd stop by and see how you are doing_."

It's morning?

Feels later in the day than that. At least to me anyway. Then again, time does not pass wherever the hell I am. At least, not for me. Maybe out there it can be measured in seconds, minutes, hours, and so on. But here, only the intermittent darkness serves as any form of clock, one without second hands or even numbers. At one point, I might have known what time felt like to pass, but for some reason, I can barely make even the simplest connections between this world and the one out there.

_"Heh, still sleeping yo? Well, that's all right."_

Sleeping? I'm asleep? But, I can hear him perfectly clearly. Okay, so not completely clear through some of the muffled syllables, but my mind is trying to fill those in as he speaks with those long, slightly drawled words. Reno. You sound something like him. I think, though I'm not really sure of myself on that.

"_Rude's been by I see. Brought you some flowers. Not your favorite kind, but he tried. You like sunflowers? Yeah. Sunflowers. Ugliest flowers on the planet yo, next to roses of course. You never did like roses though. Too many thorns_."

Yeah, I was never very fond of roses. Or daffodils. Too many bad memories with those. Sunflowers are all right I suppose. The voice continues with a somber sigh, his hand clutching my own with a harsher hint of tension. As though he is worried about something.

_"Funny. I've known you for years and I still don't know what flower you like the best. There's a lot of stuff I don't know about you yo. Things I'd like to ask, to know more about ya know. I've been wanting to ask what your favorite colors were for years, what animals you like, what that goddamn real name of yours is, but, guess I never got around to it. Looks like I'll never get the chance to either."_

He sounds so sad, like someone has beaten him into submission and kicked him around a good bit before finally allowing him to admit defeat in the presence of his foe. I don't recall him ever sounding this stressed and worried over something. He's always been so upbeat and cheerful. But now, he's upset.

_"Fate's a bitch. I didn't mean for it to end up this way ya know. Please don't hate me for it. I-I was following orders. You know I had to do it. If I didn't, someone else would have. You know how this whole mission thing works."_

Reno…My mind flinches at the invisible hint of rage corralled behind those words. I can almost see his eyes, those gentle emerald eyes, narrowed at something only he sees in the distance, disjointed from reality in his own little world. He blames himself for this. For something he couldn't help but do.

_"Please 'Nei. You gotta wake up yo."_

Wake up? The thought sounds so foreign, the concept impossible. I can't even move any part of my body, let alone my eyelids to prove that I can indeed hear every word you're saying.

_"Yo__u can't stop fighting yet." _The pressure on my hand increases, his fingernails carving into my flesh._ "Don't let those jackasses for doctors tell you what to do. I know you're in there, somewhere."_

I wish I could respond. Oh how I wish I could respond and let that person know that I appreciate it more than anything. To not be left alone here. To know that someone out there gives enough of a damn to spend some time trying to get me out of this hell I've created for myself. But I can't. I'm sentenced to be stuck like this, somewhere in limbo between life and death - again.

The sliding shift of a door being opened - a second presence entering the void with a sterner, stronger step about their gait. Confident in nature, yet prideful all around. I should know this person fairly well.

_"You are supposed to be home, resting."_

Reno shifts in his seat but does not venture from his place beside me, that arrogant presence about him as the smoothed, flat tone fills the air with long awaited words or reprimanding frustration._ "I'm fine yo."_

The presence draws to a halt, the light brush of his jacket telling me that he's standing somewhere off to Reno's side, probably by the foot of the bed._ "Any changes to report?"_

_"Nope. Still asleep."_

_"Reno. You know what the doctor said. With the injuries she sustained-"_

_"She'll wake up yo. Just give her some time yet."_

_"Time is something we do not have. She does not have. The doctors were more than clear that with her injuries her odds were not good."_

_"Screw them. They've been wrong before."_

_"Not this time. The latest tests were not good."_

_"'Nei's different yo. She'll be okay."_

I think I preferred being able to move freely, albeit clumsily, rather than this. This is just cruel. A prisoner. That's what I have become. I'm a prisoner in my own body, unable to even accomplish the simplest of instinctive, natural movements required to survive on my own. It's as though someone took my entire mind and just wiped everything from it, and threw away the backup disk, leaving me in this hell.

They talk about me as though I don't exist. As though I cannot hear them. Maybe I _don't_ exist anymore. Maybe this is all one big product of my overactive imagination. Reno. Tseng. Neither one of them are here. I'm not here.

What happened to bring me to this point? Why can't I recall even the simplest of commands to make anything work to my advantage?

"_I'll be back later, 'Nei. Got to deal with those jackasses in the white coats. Stay strong okay_."

The presence rises from his perch beside me with a soft word of what appears to be encouragement, only to be replaced by a harsher series of inaudible words and that familiar pinch of icy needles into veins that make me want to scream out in agony, to do anything humanly possible to get them to stop torturing me as whatever scalding substance being injected seizes body as if it were a high stakes hostage. But the stagnant darkness prevents my cry of protest, driving me deeper into its embrace the worse the pain becomes.

It'll be over soon, I try to remind myself. Sooner or later, the pain will fade, leaving me floating in this dark ocean once again, alone.

Please…I try to will my thoughts to whomever is out there on the opposite curtain of darkness, a part of me knowing it will be in vain. Please don't leave me here.

I'm not even sure if I _exist_ anymore as a human, or a shadow at this stage of the game. I can feel the caring touch, but no longer react to it. Like some sort of strange puppet, my mind distanced from my actual body, the strings in someone else's hands. Or is it the other way around? I'm not terribly certain myself.

Every so often, there is a speck of residual light in the distance, faint, but there, calling, beckoning me towards its warm, enveloping grasp. Damnedest thing is though, that no matter how much I strain to even put forth one fraction of effort towards lifting these weary hands to actually reach out and grab it, nothing moves. Absolutely nothing.

Gods that beeping sound is starting to drive me crazy. Even, pulsing drones that resonate from invisible walls, collecting and bounding back with the same monotonous echo. That eerie swishing sound is even worse, grating with some minute semblance of discomfort that comes and goes but never fully materializes into something I can use to get me the hell out of here.

That little, fractional part of my mind still intact warns me that something horrific will happen if I don't hear those sounds occurring like they are. I am, or was, alive. That much I do know. But as for how much so, or where in the hell I even am at this point, I really cannot say. All I know, is that I have the faithful insanity-causing beeping occurring every so often, that warmth of someone holding my hand from time to time, and this annoying sense of foreboding discomfort to keep me company.

I don't like this one bit.

Lifestream…I was in the _Lifestream_. That eerie, yet awkward green glow, snaking and spiraling around everything with the warmth of a tropical summer climate not too unlike Gongaga. So warm and comfortable, far from the frigid embrace of this darkness now.

A quiver of fear manifests in the back of my mind like a frightening winter wind.

I ended up in the Lifestream. For a certain amount of time, everything stopped, and, I died.

"_Don't fight it, Child_…" Those words, gentle and soft, telling me exactly what not to do and yet, I somehow managed to screw that one up royally. And this is my punishment, sentenced to the darkness for eternity, or what feels like it in a body that doesn't seem to want to play willing host to my soul anymore.

A punishment for a Turk. I wish I could go back and change everything.

What if I cannot leave this place, ever? What if - the chill rakes through my mind and over what I assume is still a distanced part of my body, I cannot wake up?


	2. In The Hands of The Enemy

**Urgh, the Muse sincerely apologizes for this chapter taking so long to be written, its habitual rushing, and moreso overall lack of quality writing. I'd make up a good excuse right about now, but meh, I really don't have one aside from sheer laziness. I can however, promise that there will be more action soon and the plot will start to move a bit better than it is currently. Hopefully, I'll be getting chapters written at a much steadier pace than it's been lately. Thanks for the patience!**

**Chapter Two - In The Hands of The Enemy**

Over the years I have come to learn that there is no such thing as a fair fight. If anything, the term 'fair' does not even exist if you happen to be involved in the Shinra branch of the watchdog pack. Fair is something you learn to respect as being nonexistent at best, and if anyone tells you they were ever involved in a 'fair' fight, they are no doubt lying.

Such is the way the combat spectrum works and I have personally witnessed first hand.

"_I'll be damned if I give you of all people authority over what happens to her."_

The yelling has been going on for a god-awful time now. Grating, sharp words exchanged over the void with increasing levels of anger and vindictiveness. Two creatures locked in verbal combat with seemingly no end in sight to their bitter banter.

"_A fine specimen such as this one should not be allowed to go to waste. If you-"_

"_I'll sign your damn paperwork to release the body when there is a body to release. Not one second beforehand while I am still in charge of my currently living subordinate."_

The sound of a clipboard being thrown against a Plexiglas wall and frantic scramble of shoes over linoleum in escape. I do not like where this whole argument is going. Not at all one bit.

"_But think of this as a brilliant advancement of the scientific community-"_

"_Get the hell out of this room before I shoot you myself. And if I cannot kill you, then I know one very irritated Turk I can utilize to do so. Either way, Shinra would be searching for a new head of the Scientific Department." _The click of a pistol being loaded. "_I'm certain that would be a more substantial advancement to the scientific community."_

I have to give Tseng credit. When the head watchdog is provoked, he can pull some pretty ruthless punches at his foes.

Glad he's on my side. At least…I hope he's on my side. I'm not entirely certain of which side is which right now. All I know is that I'm stuck on the outside of the proverbial ring and from what I've gathered, there is a bit more at stake in this fight than there ever has been.

The most important fight of my life, and I cannot participate to even so much as defend myself. This is not fair. No one ever lets the girl in the coma tell her side of the story.

"_Mark my words, Tseng, I will get my specimen. You cannot protect her forever."_

Hojo's sniveling threats fall upon deaf ears, the pillar-like force known as Tseng stepping closer and eliciting a stride of flight from the eccentric scientist with an ego large enough to make Bahamut look like a tiny lizard.

"_Forever is a long time, Dr. Hojo. I highly doubt she will even need me for that long."_

A little part of me cannot help but feel a thin level of comfort, however dangerous that is for someone like me, at hearing those words. On one hand, he's not going to let me suffer at the hands of a madman. On the other, I'm already suffering in the hands of not-so-madmen who inflict pain on a semi-regular schedule all in the name of keeping my sorry ass alive for another day.

Another rule of the watchdog pack. You can trust no one, not even those who were once your 'allies.' For all I know, Tseng could kill me himself and no one would be none the wiser. Turks are professionals at making murders look like 'accidents.' The girl in the coma is always the one who is the first target.

It's cold here today. The darkness lies stagnant around by being with its usual low budget humming and beeping. Must be a window open somewhere around here.

Windows in the closest thing to Purgatory I can describe. I must be losing it.

Tseng and Hojo are long gone, leaving me to contend with this void yet again. Not that I can complain. In a sickening sort of way, I've grown fond of the place. No one bugs me here. There is no grating, piercing words exchanged between angered creatures locked in combat. There is no lady behind the reception desk.

Purgatory. I've come to respect that of all of the places I landed, that is the one I'm currently in. Not quite Heaven or Hell, but somewhere in-between. A place that very well could be a part of the Lifestream designated for people like me. Stubborn fools who think they can escape the 'before their time' concept.

So Hojo's after me now? And here I thought the worst was over. If what he did to Zack and Cloud is any consolation…A quiver of terror creeps through my veins at the thought. Gaia only knows what he would do to me.

No. I cannot let Hojo take me that easily. There has to be some way out of this place. Something I'm missing. I don't want to stay here. I want, no, _need _to be out there. But how?

The growls of creatures locked in conflict have returned. I hear their feet crossing the linoleum, two sets casual, one set frantic. Odd. These are different this time, the first set approaching with a sauntering gait I know I have heard before. And if I recall, I didn't like that person all that much and I highly doubt I still do.

"_This is madness. You can't-"_

Tseng? He doesn't sound terribly confident for a man of his stature. Wonder what's going on out there. The light labored breathing as he skirts past what I assume is a doorway to stand in his usual spot in the darkness tells me he's been running.

Running. In the Shinra building. Last time that happened-

"_I have an order to interrogate a wanted criminal signed by the President himself. And there's nothing you can do about it."_

Grating, sharp words lost to the darkness with a slurred sense of all-knowing arrogance wash across my being, the sharp discomfort pressing harsher upon my heart like a veil of thorns. Damn it all to hell and back. Of all people I'm up against in a fight, it just had to be the current reigning ruler of Weapons Research.

If I do manage to somehow survive this, Scarlet's going to be the first one I go after and then Hojo.

Something is wrong. That steady echo intensifies with a violent shriek, doubling in speed and eliciting a shout of unrefined rage from Tseng.

_"You'll end up killing her!" _

What's happening?

_"It's not like it will be a terrible loss. She is a criminal after all."_

Pain. Blinding flashing pain roars through the void, making me scream out in terror. Gods this hurts. Please, make them stop. Tell them to stop! I didn't do anything wrong to deserve this! I didn't!

The shrieking continues for the longest thirty seconds of my life, every muscle convulsing without moving at some substance flooding my veins. Fire. They're burning me alive, from the inside out. No. Please. Stop. I don't want to feel anymore pain. Please.

The shouts and anger resonates like a violent thunderstorm, clouding my mind with horrific words I cannot understand. Someone's touching my hand, violently this time, the gentleness long gone and replaced with a sense of hostility.

"_Hang in there, Cissnei. It'll be over soon. I promise."_

"_It's not like she can hear you."_

Oh, I can hear you alright. Every goddamn word.

"_Come on. Open your eyes. Please."_

I don't want to, Tseng. It hurts too bad.

Everything's ablaze in light. Cruel, angry light that scours my body with tongues of flame and winds of scalding brimstone. It hurts to breathe. Like molten coals being poured down my throat. No. Please not back to that place. Anyplace but that place. I don't want to die here. Please don't let me die.

A part of me tells me to reach out through the light in search of something, anything, to pull myself out of this molten void I've been thrown into.

Warmth. Soft, faint, subtle warmth. Something I cannot quite identify, but it conforms to my hand in response to my frantic grasp for that thin wire of hope to prevent myself from falling away into the light.

Everything's so blurry. A palette of frigid white with obsidian shapes painted into the canvas. And cold. The chill rakes through my veins where fire raged seconds ago. Gods. I don't think I've ever felt this cold before.

"Can you tell me your name?"

That's a stupid question. Of course I can. It's…

Something prevents the words from being formed. Instinct maybe? I don't know. It feels as though something has drained every ounce of strength from my body, leaving me with barely enough to breathe. Even that's difficult. A rattling motion that only exists because my brain tell it to.

I'm helpless in the jaws of a rottweiler. The wrong kind of fight for a wounded former watchdog to have ended up in. And this time, Tseng isn't going to jump in and take the hit for me.

She's going to kill me. I just know it.

The shape with the golden hair steps closer, practically shoving the shape I identify as Tseng out of my fleeting vision. Talon-like fingernails dig into the flesh of my hand.

"Well, this was an elaborate waste of time."

"Sometimes it takes a while for the patient to fully regain consciousness. Even then, with injuries like this, sometimes patients never fully recover enough to be much more than semi-lucid vegetables if that."

I don't recognize this person, but by the way his bleached coat swishes with the shift of his weight, I can only assume he is a doctor of some sorts. One of those professionals who knows everything there is to know about a patient under their care. Not Hojo thank Holy.

Semi-lucid vegetable. That's bullshit. My mind is perfectly fine.

Scarlet, in her infinite wisdom, does not seem to think so and releases my hand with a snippy air about her. "Twenty four hours and then she goes straight to Dr. Hojo. There is no sense keeping such a useless, pathetic creature around."

Twenty four hours…I'll show you how pathetic and useless I am. Just you wait.


	3. Fragile

**Hey there folks! The Muse brings you yet another chapter for your reading pleasure. Hope you all enjoy it. :)**

**Chapter Three - Fragile**

"How are you feeling, Ms. Starling?"

If I was feeling well, do you honestly think I would be here, tethered to this bed by an IV line dripping some sort of opaque blue liquid I cannot even begin to identify into my veins and handcuffed to the metal rail?

I struggle to evade the piercing blade of light stabbing at my eyes for what very well could be the tenth time today. I stopped counting after fourth and it's not even lunchtime yet. Honestly, I don't understand the concept of how blinding me with a flashlight is making the situation any better.

The man in the white coat clicks the penlight off and tucks it back into his front pocket, writing something upon his trusty clipboard. He doesn't even look at me, as though I do not even exist. Must be some sort of unwritten code amongst doctors or something.

"Still not talking. Hmmm." He reaches over and checks something on the dark monitor where pale green lines dip and zigzag across its surface to display a series of constantly changing numbers. The color of the life stream. Why does it have to be that color of all colors?

The corner of his lip turns downward slightly. He doesn't look too happy. Wonder what for terrible excuse I've given him to jab me in the arm with another needle for now. With the amount of blood they've already collected, you'd swear they were a group of starving vampires.

"Blood pressure's a little high-" No shit. Someone dropped an entire sector plate on me. I'm supposed to be calm through all of that? Again, more checking of the clipboard. "Eyes look good and respond to light. Reflexes, a little slow, but I attribute that to lack of use, but could be more serious. I think more tests are in order."

More tests? You have got to be kidding me. I feel fine.

A twinge of pain across my lower shoulder makes my spine stiffen and the world shifts ever so slightly. Okay, maybe not so fine. Thankfully my grimace goes unnoticed to the man in the white coat. Damn sniper just had to hit the cartilage and practically ruin any and all chances of me throwing my shuriken accurately any time soon. The shrapnel did far worse than I initial thought, if the amount of gauze and bandages covering the wound is any indication. Then again, that could be from the actual rubble, or the bullet. It's hard to tell without seeing the wound. For all I know, in that instant, years of training have been undone. Not that I'll be needing those skills once Scarlet gets done tearing me apart though. The wicked witch of the western wing is due to magically reappear with my death sentence in a few hours.

The hiss of the Plexiglas door being pulled open and commanding footsteps fill the room.

"I need to talk to her alone."

The doctor jabs his pen against the clipboard in response. "The patient is not up to visitors at the moment."

Tseng taps his foot impatiently with that no-nonsense look about him that has been known to frighten lower class SOLDIERs and some executives. Same old straight-laced, everything's in order method of dressing with the ironed blazer and straightened tie. Just as I remember him. I don't recall ever feeling this happy to see him though.

"I need you out." He commands. "This is privileged information you do not have the authorized security level to hear."

Uh oh. I sense an argument brewing between these two. No doubt it won't be their first either.

The doctor saunters up to my former boss with that holier-than-thou approach as though the Wutainese man is little more than an annoying fly that keeps reappearing at will. "She needs more tests before we figure out why she is not speaking. It could be severe amnesia, a permanent brain injury caused by the skull fracture-"

"Or she could just not like you."

"That's ridiculous. A patient such as this is a fragile being with complex injuries. Personality has nothing to do with medical science."

A faint glimpse of amusement flashes across Tseng's obsidian hazel eyes. Trust a Turk to know his pack better than anyone.

"You may have your 'patient' for more 'tests' once I am done interrogating her. Not one second before. A few minutes away from you is not going to harm her."

He sits down beside me and grasps the metal rail. Those eyes bore into my soul like they did months ago, reading every fiber of my being with that terrifying all-knowing look about them. I've fallen through a time warp to the time before the mission that changed my life and put the first nail in the coffin I built for myself.

Only instead of sitting before that mahogany desk digging my fingers into the arms of the chair, I'm sitting here, in a hospital bed, clutching the thin pale blanket with trembling fingers and visibly shaking. There is no Zackary Fair and Cloud Strife I'm trying to defend this round, but myself.

And every Turk knows that is the worst kind of fight to be embroiled in.

Tseng waits until the disgruntled doctor has gone, the door sliding shut with a piercing click, and continues to look at me. "Why did you do it?"

I worry the fabric of the blanket nervously and glance at the thousands of crisscrossed threads in shame. What do I tell him? That I 'accidentally' stumbled into AVALANCHE territory after this company tried to murder me and ended up finding out their cause was something I actually gave a damn about for the first time in years? That I was _scared_ and wanted revenge?

"Cissnei, you have to tell me what happened to you." He grasps my hand gently as if to show no sense of hostility towards me. "Why you were on that pillar that night. You have to tell me."

His words are soft, as though he does not want me to answer his question at all. But I cannot evade this one. There is no dark void of nothingness to flee to in escape. I'm a wounded animal snared in a trap with no way out.

"_Revenge_." The word is whispered, barely audible in a tone that's turned rusty from lying dormant for so long.

For several seconds, there is only the beeping of that damn monitor, neither one of us reacting. Tseng remains motionless. He's pondering my answer in that cryptic mind of his. Dissecting it to the best of his ability. For once, I do not care what he thinks. I did what I had to do to stay alive. I did what was required under the circumstances.

I did what was right for the first time in my career and I'm about to be brutally punished for it.

"Cissnei…"

He doesn't believe me. No one would. It's such an incredible story that I don't even believe it. Yet it's true. Everything is true. Biggs. Wedge. Barret. Tifa. Marlene. Cloud... All of them existed. All of them were there.

And I could do nothing to protect them.

"That's not who I am anymore." I manage to reply, my throat scratchy and dry. What I wouldn't do for a glass of water. If he can even understand me I'd be surprised.

You are not one of _them_ anymore, my inner watch dog responds. About time she responds. I was beginning to worry she had not come back with me. At least someone understands what I went through to get this far.

Tseng's gaze softens at the words. Almost as though, I've wounded him. Severely, might I add.

A trembling hand brushes my auburn bangs out of my eyes and touches the narrow bandage wrapped around my head. He's worried. That can't be right. Tseng doesn't worry. Those obsidian eyes hold a sense of sorrow behind them as he leans closer, examining my eyes.

"Yes it is. You were critically injured during the fall of Sector Seven's upper plate. Reno and you fought, on the pillar. Do you remember?"

Desperation lingers upon the fringe of his words for an answer, any answer to prove I am not 'gone' as the doctor claims I am. That I am still in my rightful mind, if there ever was such a thing. That I am still _ali__ve._

"Please, Cissnei. Please tell me you remember Reno."

Reno. Poor Reno. I didn't want to fight him on that pillar. I never wanted to be there. Never wanted to fight the closest thing to a best friend I've ever had. No one deserved to be in that fight.

My memories. Gods, it feels like someone is tearing through them, ripping each one painfully from its rightful spot upon the shelf and thrusting it before me to mock me. Biggs. The way carefree, jovial Biggs lay dying at the base of those aluminum and steel stairs - his life ebbing away with the seconds.

And Wedge. That look in his eyes as he plunged to his death, leaving Barret and I to press on to the top. The end of everything came with those falling stars. Stars I should have died with as well.

Technically, I did. I did not make it off of that plate on my own. They dragged me here against my will. Did this without my consent.

No one will know about the true AVALANCHE. The people who paid the ultimate price in hopes of protecting those who could not. Perhaps, this is my last chance to set the record straight. To do what they could not.

"Shinra," I reply darkly and meet his gaze with narrowed eyes.

Tseng's eyes light up with a twinge of hope. He clasps my hand tighter. "Yes, Cissnei. Shinra. You're a Turk here at Shinra. You were wounded and are in a hospital. You were severely hurt."

I grasp the blanket tighter in vain attempt to gather some semblance of courage for my words.

"They brought that plate down on _innocent_ people." Fire laces the words like a scalding venom that catches Tseng by surprise.

"Cissnei," he clasps my hand tighter with a look of sympathetic regret in his eyes. "It was the only option we had left."

The only option they had left…

There are a hundred better ways that conflict could have been resolved and not one of them involved dropping a plate on the city beneath.

"None of them deserved it, Tseng! None of them did anything wrong! It was us they were after. I was one of the criminals Shinra wanted."

"You were caught in the middle. An innocent victim of circumstance."

"No," I can still recall the seconds leading down to that final explosion. The planning, the execution; every little detail. It doesn't matter how far I run, where I go, the part I played in bringing down Sector Seven is something I will have to live with forever. Those people died because of my involvement. Because of the bomb that I constructed and oversaw the detonation of. Had I been smart about it, I never would have suggested the reactors. And no one would have had to die like that. "I was the one responsible."

"Don't think like that. It was an accident that couldn't have been avoided. You-"

No excuses. No regrets. Isn't that what I was always told? What I once was does not matter. What matters now is that my once superior officer knows the most important thing of all, the _truth_ behind my actions. He doesn't understand what I saw out there. What happened to me. What that god-awful monster in charge of Weapons Research did to bring me to this point.

"They shot me out of the goddamn sky for my involvement in the Fair-Strife case, Tseng. They tried to kill me. What was I supposed to do? Come back here and just let that woman kill me? I was hurt and scared, and I don't know what the hell I was thinking. But I saw an opportunity to both protect myself and get revenge. And given the chance, I would do it again."

It's the most I've ever said to my superior officer in a single sitting, but it's all I can say in an effort to build whatever defense I can at the moment. When you're faced with your own worst enemy who knows you better than you, yourself might know, a good defense is everything. Tseng continues to look at me, as if surprised by the revelation of what I've told him. My memory was never the problem, nor my ability to explain my actions.

"I want to believe that is the mako speaking."

Mako? What the hell? I wasn't even close to a reactor long enough to get Mako Poisoning let alone allow it to impede my judgment and mind.

"What are you-" I cannot help but notice the liquid in the IV once more.

Hojo. That bastardized excuse for a miserable mutated cockroach. How dare he even think about doing something this heinous.

Tseng seems to pick up on my unease. "That was the only way. I'm sorry. You would have died unless we did the transfusion."

No. This cannot be happening. What did these people do to me? I glance at the liquid and tremble at the very thought.

Like Cloud, and Zack. That monster. That goddamn monster. He's gone too far this time.

"You turned me into a monster!"

I'm angry. Beyond angry. Twenty years of pain and sorrow, unleashed with one seven letter word. Every pathetic strike at my one time boss in a fit of rage he is unprepared for. A metallic tray strikes the ground, scattering instruments every which way in the lunge for the door. I need to get out of here. I don't wanna be here anymore.

"Cissnei." He grabs my wounded shoulder in an effort to restrain me and every muscle writhes in agony. But I don't care. This bastard is one of them. Part of the reason I'm stuck here, like this. "It'll be okay. You'll be okay."

"No! It won't be okay! You did this to me. All of you did this to me." Tears scald my eyes as everything shifts. A part of me is running, fleeing from this place of torment and rage. "Let go of me!"

Tseng wraps an arm around my shoulders as I grasp his blazer in desperation for an answer. It's too much. Everything. I cannot handle this.

"Why?" The tears burn like molten fire. "Why did you do this to me? So you can kill me again?"

The sound of footsteps approaching beyond the Plexiglas door. They're going to hurt me again. I can sense it.

Zack. Cloud. They're going to kill me for what I've done. Just like Zack and Cloud.

"No. Gods no. We never wanted it to be this way. Reno never wanted to do this to you. I never intended-"

"You've done enough!" I snarl. "I was happy damn it. I was free for the first time in my life. And they took it away from me. Biggs. Wedge. They took them away. Every goddamn one of them."

I've given up trying to break free of Tseng's unfaltering grasp and settled into a terrified subconscious tremble not too unlike that of a scared mouse facing the biggest tomcat in the alley. Tears continue to cloud my vision with the sickening realization that this is all too real. I'm really in this situation and playing for keeps this round.

"Listen to me." He continues to hold me in the closest thing to a hug of comfort someone of his rank and lack of emotion can sanely manage. "I will do whatever I have to do to keep you safe. Even if that means going against protocol and my superiors. I'm not going to let them take you away from us again. I promise that."


	4. One of Their Own

**Chapter Four - One of Their Own**

The life of a former Turk is like being a watchdog locked in a high security kennel, waiting, watching as the hours tick by. Sooner or later, Death will saunter through that Plexiglas door in search of its lost 'pet' and when it finds me, I will be released into its chilling presence to be led away to a place beyond that of human mercy. The inevitable end lingers in that darkened corridor and the dull lights of the evening hospital shift.

And like all good watchdogs, I am naturally vigilant in my observations for threats. I nudge the Styrofoam cup across the tray with a disgruntled sigh.

I cannot stop thinking about Tseng's grim words.

"_That was the only way. I'm sorry__. __You would have died unless we did the transfusion.__"_

It's not his fault, I remind myself. He would not have been the one who authorized that conniving evil cockroach who crawls out of that dungeon of a laboratory at will and makes all humanoid creatures look bad to get within ten feet of me, let alone use me for his own sick twisted experiments. The fact that it _happened _is what bothers me.

I've been infected with mako. It flows through my veins with each heartbeat, morphing cells and changing things to suit its own purpose. Like a parasite that seems to have found me to be a suitable host. A ticking time bomb with enough power to not only kill me, but to turn me into a complete monster.

I draw my knees to my chin and pull the blanket tighter around my body. I'm scared.

What if I turn into something scary? What if I lose my mind and hurt those who I care about? What if…I shiver at the chill air of the room and the terrifying thoughts invading my mind in scenarios I cannot begin to describe. What if I lose my mind completely and end up doing something as dastardly as Sephiroth did to Nibelheim?

My hands claw through the strands of my auburn hair in an effort to distract myself from my own thoughts. Was this how Zack felt after Hojo played mad scientist with him and Cloud? Not certain of anything except destruction and escape?

"No." I close my eyes and grit my teeth in an effort to block out the invisible voices that do not exist. I am not yet like that. I do not _feel _any different. Nothing changed with me aside from what was done to keep me alive. To bring me back. Mako is just that, right? A chemical manufactured by humans. It cannot 'change' me if I do not let it. "Please no."

I'll be damned if I let myself plunge into that spiraling void of madness. If need be, I can end this before I even get the chance to hurt anyone. A coward's death fit for a worthless creature such as myself. No one is going to have to die by my hand because of the mako in my veins. Yeah. I won't let it happen. I can't let it happen. Shinra is not going to use me as their personal pedigree murder any longer.

A hand grasps my trembling fingers and draws them out of my hair, making every muscle stiffen in anticipation of another stab of the scalding needles.

"Let me go!" A violent reaction spurred out of raw instinct as I catch my assailant under the rib with my elbow and jerk backwards against the pillow. They won't take me alive for their twisted experiments. Not alive.

My foot catches his thigh through the metal rail, prompting a second hand to restrain me. "Don't touch me!"

"Whoa, calm down yo. I'm not here to hurt you."

Emerald eyes linger above me with a hint of surprise and concern etched within their presence. Scraggly, strands of flame red hair hang loosely in the clumsy attempt at a rebellious ponytail as he leans forward and gingerly relaxes his grip, as though expecting me to try to lunge away again but deciding that I am not enough of a flight risk to bother even trying to restrain.

That sense of anticipation is still there though - in the way his wrist muscles remain taunt and fingers arched like the talons of a descending hawk stalking its prey mere inches from my arms. He smells of stale whiskey - and for some odd reason, fish. Just as I remember him. Blazer undone and coffee-stained shirt untucked with the Electro-Mag rod hanging loose in its hostler along his thigh. He looks like absolute hell.

"Reno?" I whisper, praying if for a moment, that he will forgive me for acting like an ass and doing everything just short of biting him out of instinct.

A monster. I've become a monster. I hurt the closest thing to a best friend I've ever had. Gods, this cannot go on. I shudder at what might have occurred had I had access to a sharp instrument or blunt object to strike him with instead of mere hands and feet.

Instead of shying away from me as anticipated, he wraps those same talon-like fingers and stick-like arms around me and draws me against his chest. The sting of pain from being held so tightly makes me flinch.

His warm breath lingers by my ear with his own trembling coursing through his muscles. "Oh god, 'Nei. I'm sorry. I did not mean to hurt you."

He's hugging me. Very un-Reno like by even the most imaginative standards. Sure, he's draped an arm over my shoulder every once in a while in the beginnings of an attempt over the years, but actually holding on to me as if I am the most precious thing he has at the moment? It just feels wrong. Something's definitely wrong with him. This is not the friendly, carefree Reno I know. He's different - haunted even.

The way his eyes are slightly sunken into his skull with a dusting of darkness around them. He's been hitting the whiskey heavy.

"When we sifted through the rubble and found you, 'Nei-" His voice cracks, the hard shell of good humor and jovial presence whittled down to the shell of the man he once was. His arms tighten around my body and he burrows his chin into my uninjured shoulder, as if I am going to leave him. "You were so pale and cold. It was like you decided to just stop fighting all together. Y-You just stopped breathing, 'Nei. Like you didn't _want _to continue fighting. No matter how hard I tried to convince you to take that one last breath - you wouldn't. Your eyes were wide open, but you were not fighting to live anymore."

"Reno…" His willowy frame shakes with the splash of warm tears dampening my bruised skin. Gods, Reno, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do this to you. I didn't mean to leave you like that. I never thought-

I never thought we would be on opposite sides of the fence that night.

"You died in my arms yo. No pulse. Nothing. Slipped away without a sound, without even saying goodbye, 'Nei. You left without saying goodbye." His sobs deafen the air as he relives the vivid memory as if it had just happened. Reno. Please stop crying. I'm not dead. I made my way back to here, unorthodox, yes, but I came back. You brought me back. "And when they brought you here…Gods, 'Nei, you barely even responded to anything they tried. They said you were not even _here _anymore. T-that you were beyond saving. It didn't matter that your heart was beating weakly. To them, you were dead. The only thing keeping you alive was a machine, 'Nei. Tseng and I both knew that was not what you would have wanted. Hell, he even had the paperwork from your old file that you signed for Gaia's sake to prove it. Your goddamn _will_. But neither one of us could do it yo. We couldn't let you go like that. We just couldn't. I'm sorry for what I did to you. I'm sorry I put you here and didn't follow some stupid piece of paper. I'm sorry that bastard scientist did what he did. I'm-"

"Reno," I whisper hoarsely. He's broken, just like me. Clinging to what he can in vain hopes of keeping what little sanity he has left for a crime he thinks he is guilty of. "I never blamed you for what you did. I never blamed you."

"Don't leave me again, 'Nei. Don't you dare stop fighting like that ever again. Please don't ever stop fighting."

I wrap my trembling arms around his back and burrow my head into his shirt. Tears scald my eyes and dampen his shirt. We are but two watchdogs, broken and battered by events beyond our control. Two enemies who were once friends with a common purpose.

There is but one thing creatures like us seek in our lives. The most difficult quest we can ever undertake in hopes of finding what is rarer than the most elusive treasure on earth.

Forgiveness.

"I won't, Reno. I promise I'll keep fighting."

"We'll protect you, 'Nei," he says with a sense of steeled confidence. "No matter what you did. I promise we will protect one of our own."

"_I'm not going to let them take you away from us again. I promise that.__"_

Strong words to a weakened, broken soul with very little to live for and even less to give a damn about. A faint strand of shiny golden hope in an otherwise dismal situation. Tseng's always been one to try to do the right thing, despite the bad rep he gets for leading the most feared department in all of Shinra's underhand conniving dark side. And with Reno helping…I'm not certain what to think about this.

More importantly, how one even begins to go about accomplishing something like that, I cannot even begin to comprehend. Shinra's no doubt got me under heavy surveillance. Partially, because I was once a Shinra-raised Turk with one of the highest levels of security authorization in the company. And moreso because I am one of the leading terrorists in the history of AVALANCHE and quite possibly one of the best computer hackers in the world. Keeping me alive is one of their riskiest mistakes.

"How do you intend on doing that exactly, Reno?"

He wipes the back of his sleeve across his eyes with a glimmer of impish pride behind them. At least he looks a little more like how I remember him being. With a forced attempt at a smirk, he releases me and winks. "Don't worry about it, 'Nei. Tseng knows what he's doing."

I can only hope.


	5. The Element of Confusion

**Well folks, the Muse has stumbled upon some sugar cookies in her travels and it's having huge motivating results as far as actually focusing on working on getting some writing done. I apologize for this filler-ish type of chapter, but I promise that the one to follow this one will put the action into the plot AND you will get that action chapter before Christmas. ;) Enjoy folks. **

**Chapter Five - The Element of Confusion**

I'm not entirely certain just what was in that tiny white pill that the night nurse insisted I swallow shortly after Reno wandered off to deal with whatever the hell he had to deal with so late at night. But whatever it was, I'm secretly glad that it had the immediate effect of putting me into a nice, quiet, semi-peaceful slumber from which if given the chance, I'd be rather pleased to not awaken from any time soon.

For once, I'm not dreaming about mako injections and mad scientists who want to dissect me and lock me in a test tube full of some glowing substance for the rest of my life until I grow a third arm and lose what little sanity, if any, I have left. No. This time, I'm perfectly content with dreaming about cute fuzzy bunny rabbits hopping along the pasture fence to a ranch full of golden feathered warbling chocobos munching happily on a parcel of various greens.

This is how a dream is supposed to be. Quiet and nonviolent. I stretch my arms above my head and lean against the coarse surface of a tree trunk with a pleasant sigh. Chocobos. Who would have thought that of all things to dream about with what I've been through, it would be the peaceful, majestic birds. Usually most of my dreams involve the nightmarish presence of blood, violence, gunfire, and corpses of people I was once acquainted with being slaughtered while I can only watch in a helpless stupor. This is a welcomed change.

One of the scrawnier birds glances up from the trough of greens with large, beady eyes and rakes a talon over the soil. Its curved mahogany beak taps my shoulder in a gentle manner.

_"Hey. 'Nei, wake up."_

For a moment, I merely stare at the chocobo who had spoken. Chocobos don't talk. It sounded a little like, dare I even say it, Reno in a weird, twisted way. That's impossible though. Unless he got a little too close to the mako, I highly doubt he would have been capable of growing yellow plumage and looking like this bird.

The bird pecks at my shoulder again, more forcefully this time. _"Yo. Come on. We have to go. Now."_

Go where? Why are you even talking to me?

_"Aw damn it. They drugged you, didn't they?"_

I'm being addressed by a giant talking chocobo. You do the math buddy. I never exactly requested to dream about such oddly fascinating creatures. I have a much softer spot for moombas and possibly moogles. Neither of which tend to peck at me for attention.

_"Come on."_ A sense of desperation invades the bird's voice, the harsh pecking of my shoulder making me flinch. Sure is a pushy old bird. I hold an arm up to defend myself. Fantastic. Trust a perfectly peaceful dream to go to hell quick by having the birds attack me.

Death by chocobo…I just cannot win.

_"'Nei, don't do this right now."_ Screw this. I'm getting the hell out of here before I'm torn apart by sharp talons and probably eaten by those shifty-eyed rabbits by the fence. Therapy. Yeah. I think I need to pay a visit to whoever our therapist is. Having dreams about flesh-eating chocobos is not normal.

_"You're going to hate me for this, but I don't have a choice."_

The sharp stab of pain paralyzes my arm and dissolves the entire blue skies, sunny fields and chocobos scene into an unnatural darkness streaked by slits of light pouring across the pale mattress. For a frightening few seconds, I cannot move. I can merely stare at the dark railing glinting in the light and try not to gag at the metallic scent of antiseptic filling the air. Gods that stung. A steady pressure continues to hold my arm down as the shadowy being leans over me, his breath heavy to match my own panting.

Can't these people go three seconds without trying to murder me? I struggle against the force pinning me to the bed as the tearing of what sounds like some sort of tape fills the air and replaces the pressure where the fleeting sensation of the sting first appeared.

"Shhh. Stop struggling yo. I didn't mean it. I had to take the IV out."

Reno? My eyes narrow in vain attempt to outwit the sleeping drug's power over me and bring the hospital room into focus. Not having much luck, but it's a start. I think I can see the tray with the Styrofoam cup full of what is no doubt lukewarm water. The light droplets of water seeping over the top tell me the ice has long since melted since it's placement.

"What's going on?" My semi-drunken sounding ramblings make little sense as I try crane my neck painfully to see just what is holding me down.

The response I receive is one of strong stick-like arms hauling me into a sitting position. So I take it I'm not dying? A folded square of coarse cloth is forced into my trembling hands as the world lunges wildly to the left. Gods my head hurts.

"Put these on yo."

Reno, you ass. What do you think you are-

The warmth of familiar scratchy wool envelops my shivering body as he unfolds the fabric and gingerly helps me get my sore arm through the sleeve.

"It's a little big yo, but it'll have to do for now." I cannot help but feel like a little kid being 'assisted' in the fine art of dressing themselves as he manages to get my other arm through the sleeve and quickly buttons the front of the midnight blue blazer closed over my hospital gown. My heart races at the very thought of this uniform of all things being back on my body.

"Reno…" I can only assume this blazer belongs to him. The sleeves go past my fingers to the point where I can barely even see the tips of them. A little big is an understatement. The clack of the metal rail of the bed as Reno undoes the little lever. He's focused. I have to give him that much this morning. Whatever is going on involves him and he's doing his best to try to complete whatever mission he has involving me. Trying to impress Tseng no doubt. I don't see Rude or even Elena anywhere.

He helps me swing my legs over the side of the bed once the rail is down and hands me a pair of woolen midnight blue trousers. A sheepish blush tinges his face with my stern look of warning in his direction.

"All right. I won't look. But if you need help, just holler." Thanks, but no thanks. I think I can put a pair of pants on thank you very much. "Wouldn't want you to fall and suffer another concussion."

Concussion, _right_. Still as lecherous as usual. I can only imagine what goes through that mind of his sometimes.

"I got this," I snap and wrestle the pair of pants on. Damn it all to hell. These have to belong to Reno as well. I'm stepping on the pant legs and the waist goes halfway up to my chest. He turns around and hands me a belt, which I snatch from his hands before he can even say it.

I'm short. So what? I already knew that. But this is just ridiculous, Reno. The belt threads through the loops a lot easier than I first envisioned it might, which surprises me a little bit that I'm even able to handle the simple tasks I couldn't earlier today. Must be the mako healing things, coordination being one of them.

"By the way, 'Nei. I've been meaning to ask what you did to your leg and hand. I know _I_ didn't do that to you. Looks like you didn't hurt it during the pillar incident either."

"It happened a while ago," I reply and fumble with the pant leg in an effort to keep from stepping on it. There are some points in a former Turk's life one just does not visit unless invited to do so. Those moments following Zack's burial are points in my life I am not ready to revisit until I absolutely have to.

His gaze softens with an air of sympathy in those gentle emerald eyes.

"Here, let me help you with that." He kneels down and rolls the pant legs up to something more manageable to walk in and assists me with rolling the cuffs back on the blazer. It's not even close to a semi-descent fit, but it will have to do for now.

He stands back to admire his work. "Sorry about the height problem babe. It was the best I could do on short notice."

"What did I tell you about calling me that?" I warn, secretly thankful he's regained most of his good humored banter that makes him Reno. A smirk through the dull light is my response.

"Heh, wouldn't want it any other way yo." He hands me a pair of worn leather boots that somehow managed to survive the collapse of the pillar. Their ash coated and worn, but at least they'll fit better than Reno's spare uniform. I draw the laces taunt and struggle to quell the nauseous sensation invading my stomach with the motion. "You feeling okay yo?"

The room spins for a few seconds longer before settling to a hazy, uncertain halt. Reno is at my side in an instant, his lanky form against mine and supporting me with his shoulder. Gods this is embarrassing. A former, more than capable watchdog who on any given day, wounded or not, could chase down the most agile of foes - reduced to a staggering rendition of a drunkard.

Only, I haven't been drinking.

"Maybe I should carry you. You're awfully pale, 'Nei."

"I'm fine, Reno." I swat his hand away with a dejected sigh. Just a little tired is all. Reno has more than his fair share of faults for a Shinra lapdog. Hell. We all do. I don't need to look much farther than a mirror to see that for myself. But, on the list of things wrong with Reno aside from him being raw, unbridled energy masquerading in the form of a human, it's the fact that he just cares too damn much sometimes.

Hovering. He tends to hover like some sort of hyperactive Border Collie-Jack Russel hybrid mutt who can change his breed at will. Always on everyone's heels in search of attention. And he's damn good at getting it too, be it destructive or just downright odd.

First rule of the Turk pack - defend your own and stick with them no matter what happens. If it was him who was the wounded one and I the healthy of us both, I would no doubt be trying to be a helpful nuisance as well. But I cannot say that his behavior, albeit comforting, is downright awkward.

Because, quite frankly, I am a hypocrite and care too damn much about my fellow pack members as well.

"Don't think I won't yo." Mischief sparkles in his eyes as he wraps an arm around my waist to steady me. For a moment, I'm grateful he's here. I'd have fallen if he wasn't.

"I can walk."

"All right yo. But if you feel like stopping, let me know."

I'll keep that in mind, Reno. Now, let's get down to business as to why you are here and I'm dressed like a Turk. My amber eyes study him curiously as he peers around the frame of the Plexiglas door as if to check something.

Oh no. There's no way we're going to get out of here. No way in hell. Any moment now the night nurse is going to be rounding that corner with her tray of meds and charts of everyone on this floor to check up on and ensure that everyone is still alive and tethered to their bed with passable vitals. If she catches my comrade assisting a wanted criminal in escape…

"Don't worry about it, 'Nei. I took care of it already."

I do not even need to ask to know what 'took care of' means in Turk lingo. The body of a blonde nurse lies slumped against the wall, the tray's contents scattered across the floor. Reno. Please tell me you didn't-

I instinctively step forward to see if she's even still alive, but he tightens his grip with a wink of mischief, tossing a small orb of materia into the air and catching it with a flick of his wrist.

"Hope ya don't mind me borrowing some of your Sleep materia. I'm much too lazy to level up my own."

At this stage of the game, Reno, I could honestly care less. Though, I am impressed he chose a nonviolent approach to this instead of just zapping people with that Electro-Mag Rod of his. At least he did not kill anyone - yet. That is the last thing we need right now. No more deaths. I don't want anymore deaths because of me.

It's almost as though he actually cares about this mission for a change. Wish I could have motivated him to work harder on his earlier missions.

"Where are we going?"

The whitewashed walls of the hospital clash violently against the mauve tile in the luminescent greenish halo of mako light. Stainless steel pushcarts of various wound dressings and syringes rest against the wall like silent sentries in the darkness, their surfaces glimmering with horrific foreboding of things yet to come.

Death wanders these halls.

I can feel his presence in the chill air. The delicate swish of his satin robes and lingering scratch of the handle of the scythe against the tiled floor. A whisper of terror that touches my soul as a reminder that no matter where I go, I cannot escape from him.

His laugher flicks along the stagnant lights. Past the doors of other unfortunate patients trapped in their own personal hells. But tonight, they are not who he seeks to claim. Oh, he may take two or three for spite and to flex his muscles a bit in Life's face, but ultimately, he's after me.

Because all wayward spirits know that you just do not escape from Death. It doesn't happen, ever.

I huddle closer to Reno out of instinct, that inward cowardly excuse for what I used to be watchdog choosing to sit out a good fight in favor of licking wounds and letting a stronger force of nature handle the situation. Tonight, I am not Cissnei, that's for damn sure.

"What's wrong?" Reno's looking at me with that dumb look about him again. I continue to attempt to focus on the narrowed corridor further ahead. The world seems different, unbalanced somehow. Like something is horribly wrong and I cannot seem to put my finger on it yet.

Hojo. Something about the name makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. This is a part of the hospital wing I've never been to before. Transit for those awaiting a secured spot in the morgue - a holding pen of sorts to the maimed and dying.

And when we've outlived our usefulness, they simply put us down and dispose of the bodies by turning right at this intersection of hallways towards that cockroach's lair…No sound. No mess. A simple solution to the problem.

I've never felt this vulnerable before in my life.

"Yo, Cissnei. We need to get moving if we're gonna meet up with-"

The shrill of an alarm pierces the stagnant hospital air. Immediately, the explosive force of doors slamming shut echoes from further down the hall in the quickest response of security measures I have ever seen. Corridor lights flash an angry crimson with his first step into the hall.

Shit. This is not good.

The shrill thunder of interlocking mechanisms grows louder. Gods. Just like that night on the train. Any second now Shinra MPs are going to swarm this area and kill both of us.

Reno draws me close protectively, a soft curse falling from his lips as he looks from the direction to Hojo's laboratory to the opposing hall. Tremors of suppressed terror invade my muscles in a subtle shiver of panic. There's no way.

"God damn it. He told me he disabled the alarms for this section of the building."

"He must have forgotten something then." I reply and watch the pattern of lights. Odd. This isn't a normal alarm code that was used this time. Someone must have manually set it off. One of the nurses maybe? No. They were all fast asleep.

Three minutes. That's the best case scenario we have to work with. In those minutes, the entire building, each floor, will go into maximum security lockdown. Nothing gets in. Nothing gets out. All elevators beneath the sixtieth floor stop working all together so that the topmost floors have a one shot tower to ground method of escape.

A mechanical spider web to drag and net those who caused the calamity and nearly one hundred percent effective. We're screwed.

"Feeling lucky this morning, 'Nei?" He inquires with a defensive air about him.

I choose to respond in grim silence. Hell no I do not feel lucky! For Gaia's sake, the fricking alarm system has been engaged. Nothing ever good happens when I'm around and an alarm is engaged.

"Me neither," he smirks. A forceful tug upon my arm forces me into a stilted jog in attempt to catch up with my comrade's ground covering strides. Running? His answer to this fiasco is running?

"Reno, wait!" My leg protests the sudden motion, nearly making me fall.

Gunfire erupts from somewhere in the distance, along with the shouts of commands to search the area.


	6. Witnessing the Impossible

**Hi there folks! I finally got that mission I promised finished and hope you enjoy it. :) It's not quite as I wanted it to be, but meh, I was busy getting ready for the upcoming holidays so cut the Muse some slack. She really did try. Now she's going to take a nice two week haitus so she can come back in the new year with even better, more focused writing. ;) I hope you all have a very Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year! **

**Chapter Six - Witnessing The Impossible**

There's something about running for your life in a hospital corridor without any foreseeable outlet of cover that gives one an invigorating sense of normality to an otherwise mundane existence.

The ricochet of bullets fractures a pane of Plexiglas to my right with a rivaling ping to the shriek of the alarm.

I have to give my former boss credit, when he sets out to do something illegal, he doesn't go about it half ass. No, with Tseng holding the reins to a situation, one has to expect the whole stubborn ass to be involved, regardless of whatever the initial plan is supposed to be.

But a not so distant part of me wants to believe that rapid-fire automatic gunfire and the echo of running Shinra MPs were not on the slate of things to expect at three in the morning. And if that look of confusion is genuine, Reno didn't either.

"Holy shit these guys are persistent." We turn the corner heading towards the emergency elevator as another barrage of bullets embeds into the wall.

Welcome to how I spent most of my brief 'vacation' away from the Turks buddy. It's not exactly like I committed a petty slap on the wrist crime. I _did _assist a rebel terrorist cell in the destruction of two functioning mako reactors willingly and enjoyed every second of it. One can only expect I'd be under heavy surveillance.

"Yeah, well, trying outrunning them on a crowded train once."

My comrade raises an eyebrow and chances a glance behind us as if he doesn't believe it to even be possible. Typical male. Never believes much of anything.

Something's off about these MPs. It's like they've gotten lazy in their work. Well, lazier than usual by Turk standards. Just the way they're firing those overly loud weapons of theirs in a blanketing method of aim.

One of the bullets shatters a floor tile a good three feet off target. Snipers they are not.

"These guys are really getting on my nerves."

I survey the distance between the emergency elevator corridor and us. Good. We can possibly shake them within the next twenty feet if we move fast.

"You have no idea." I grasp my former comrade's wrist and struggle to run faster, the first waves of adrenaline scalding my veins to overpower the exhaustion. About damn time. I was getting tired of being an invalid.

Reno raises an eyebrow in surprise at my sudden ability to be less of a burden and more of an asset. Just like old times.

The footsteps grow louder with the gesture towards the corner. Make a right and we'll be at the emergency elevator. At least that's what I can see of the sign upon the wall. Left takes us to Radiology.

Neither is what we need to do to survive.

The first of the MPs' forms casts a brief shadow in the crimson light. He's difficult to see with the dark shadows. Thank Holy for small miracles.

Turks do not need eyesight to see our foes. We have that instinctive ability to just know where you are standing and how to get to you before you get to us, even when we're the ones standing in the open. It's called instinct. And we're professionals at utilizing it to survive.

Reno returns the squeeze of my hand with an impish smirk. He's spotted what I have and knows exactly what I'm thinking about doing.

Golden rule of the watchdog guide to survival number one. Survive against all odds.

Amid the blinking lights and timing our strides to match the alarm shrieks, we gradually slow our pace and release each other's hands. This is something where we'll either both survive or die trying to do. There is no in-between.

My feet slip over the floor with the buckle of knees and collision of linoleum against flesh. Shit that hurts. Lashing out a hand for traction, I grasp the leg of the one cart and swing my body against the wall, cowering in attempt to appear as small as possible.

Further ahead, my comrade mimics the motion with an arrogant smirk about him. Here's to hoping the lights don't come back on anytime soon.

"This way!" The leader of the infantry brigade barrels past at full gallop, rifle at the ready and firing blindly at targets that are now behind them. No one exactly said Scarlet's people were taught to think.

Reno makes a move to escape from the crevice of carts he's managed to fit his lanky frame between.

Screams riddle the air with a violent hailstorm of gunfire. Scalding light fills the corridor. I throw my arm over my eyes and turn my back to the light in an effort to shield myself as best as humanly possible from the fiery residue of materia roaring through the air. Gunfire is lost to the shrill of steel colliding with flesh. What in the hell?

Make them stop. A frantic plea to match my thundering heart. Please. Make the screaming stop. I cover my ears to drown out the screams of pain an terror ripping from the infantrymen's throats.

Tears press free of the corner of my eyes. Gods. It sounds like they're being shredded limb from limb. An animal? No. No animal could be that violent.

It's quiet now. Screams have succumbed to the mere whine of the alarm. The gunfire has ceased. And Reno is at my side, shaking my shoulder and trying frantically to get my attention. I stare vacantly up at his worried emerald eyes.

He's hurt. A piece of broken glass must have caught him across the forehead. There's blood all over him.

Be okay. Please Reno. Don't be hurt. He places a finger over his mouth for silence and guides me to my feet.

Holy…What in the hell was that thing?

I cannot stop shaking. Had we-Had we taken those final steps, they would have been our last. Whatever is around that corner is more dangerous than anything we have ever encountered. One of Hojo's experiments maybe?

A dark substance stains the wall in front of us and pools around a prone infantryman's body. I kneel down and trace a finger through the substance, working it between my fingers. Blood. Still warm blood. Reno grits his teeth and extends the Electro-Mag Rod with a click to take the lead.

I want to tell him to not go down that dark corridor. To not do this. To not leave me again. But I can't. I'm unable to even speak at the amount of blood staining these halls.

So much blood. So much death.

"Cissnei. Come on. It'll be okay." A trembling whisper from someone uncertain of what we're going to encounter. We are not going to be okay. Perhaps it's the fact that venturing into a dark corridor with only the light of the alarm lights and the shrill of warning blaring that says that it is more than a bad idea.

But somehow, that will to survive drives me to my quivering legs and forces me to continue walking. Shock. It must be shock.

I press the button to the elevator out of habit, watching as the tiny metallic and rubber buttons remain dark. Damn it. No electricity to run it on. Something about that materia must have knocked out the wiring. A bolt spell maybe? I-I'm not sure. Reno swears under his breath and turns towards the direction of the fallen infantrymen.

We have no choice now. Drawing a deep breath, my comrade takes the lead. The only way out now is the emergency stairwell. All sixty odd something floors of it. Gods I hate stairs.

Bodies line the hallway, their rifles sliced in half. Looks like some sort of blade or something encountered them. I've never seen bullets that could dissect steel like this, leaving no ragged edges whatsoever. Solid steel. Reno takes a hesitant step further ahead, the Electro-Mag Rod emitting a low hum as he adjusts it to a higher power.

There are flat, trench like scratches in the wall. As though whatever killed these men had been completely at random. I look back at the elevator to follow the trenches in the walls.

Something moves in the darkness, sending chills down my spine. It's a powerful entity. Extremely powerful.

"Reno." I tug upon his sleeve, every ounce of instinct in overdrive. We need to get out of here within the next couple of seconds. He brushes my hand aside and continues to creep forward.

"The stairs should be right around that corner."

Impossible…

Crimson light glints across the narrow lightly polished steel blade and every muscle freezes. I instinctively reach for Rekka, finding it missing. Shit. This is not good. What I wouldn't give for Biggs's .45 right about now.

Reno halts and turns towards me, his skin turning whiter than ash.

"Holy shit."

The understatement of all understatements. I back away from the presence that has materialized by the elevator. T-this is impossible. There's no way. You're dead.

Silver hair, stained with droplets of blood, swishes with his stride forward, gloved fingers curling around the hilt of the menacing katana. Death. That's who this is. The angel of death. His dark trench coat swishes with a confident stride. Glowing green eyes emit a lethal glow in the crimson of the darkened corridor.

I really hope this is a really bad nightmare.

"'Nei," Reno steps in front of me, holding his weapon level with the silver haired general who was _supposed _to have been killed four years ago. "Run for the door. I'll catch up."

Sephiroth…

"No way in hell Reno." I respond. I know what those words mean. It's exactly what I told Barret before I resigned my own fate back on that pillar. I'll be damned if I let my friend die.

"Not a good time to be stubborn 'Nei." He warns and takes a step backwards at the enemy's advance.

"You're coming with me Reno."

Sephiroth curls his lip into a smirk. We must look like confused puppies to him. Lost, far from home, and defenseless. Perfect fodder for the MasaMune to sharpen its blade with. I've never been this frightened before.

Something snaps deep within at the slightest shift of the blade in the light and the piece of materia clutched in the silver haired general's hand. No one in going to believe what we are seeing. Even if we do survive somehow, no one will ever buy this story. We're simple Turks. Well, he is. I'm just the criminal.

And that man, that awful man, is a fallen hero who came back to life against all odds to murder everyone in his path.

Terror amplifies the adrenaline with the painful pulse pounding against my ribs. And we are running, bolting for the only corridor we can. Strides sweeping side by side, I can only see the light and blood as it flashes by. Bodies. So many bodies. Reno and I leap over each one and scramble over the slick floor.

I think I'm going to be sick. Blood slides around out feet in bloody footprints.

Sephiroth…The words replays through my mind with an urgent cry of the watchdog within to do whatever it takes to escape. I've never run so fast in my life and I doubt I ever will again.

Don't look back. Don't look back. He cannot catch us. He _won't _catch us. He's not running. I don't hear his footsteps. We're going to make it.

Yeah. He'll let us tire ourselves out first, and then torture us until we die.

Reno runs alongside me with this uncertain look about him. No doubt, he's got something else on his mind aside from being speared by a madman with a katana. Something he wants to tell me before we both die.

"Tseng wanted to tell you about your other 'friends'."

Other friends? Holy hell Reno. Everyone knows Turks, both former and current do not have 'friends'. They're called acquaintances, and right now, you're one of two I have left.

"They broke in to save that flower girl Tseng's been stalking. You know the one from Sector Five?"

Wait. Aerith was nabbed by Shinra all of a sudden. When the hell did this happen? Zack's ghostly presence is going to murder me for letting her get caught.

"They got Aerith?" I inquire and chance a look behind me.

He's close. I can feel his powerful aura further down the corridor. The swish of a katana parting the materia laden air and near silence of a trench coat rivaling his inhuman strides. There's no way we can outrun him in his super human form.

"Yeah," Reno replies and nervously fiddles with the dial on the EMR. "Well, turns out they caused quite a ruckus and got thrown in prison."

They? Surely he doesn't mean-

The air explodes in fire. Run. Adrenaline burns through my veins as the ground trembles amid the flames scouring the air. Just like the reactors. Heat prickles against my skin as I force myself to run faster. We're not going to make it.

A blade cleaves through the fiery light to nick the wall dangerously close. Reno draws ahead and turns the corner, half dragging me along with him. Thank Gaia for a comrade who knows his way around this place. I struggle to keep pace, the neon light of the emergency exit light beckoning.

Seconds. That's all we have before we'll be dead. I draw to a halt and assist my comrade in drawing the heavy steel door open. Sephiroth is not yet close enough to see, but there is no doubt in my mind he will try to follow.

And with faith that the stairs are still in tact, we slip into the darkness. The steel door rattles and the light flickers with the explosion beyond the door.

If there is such a thing as the impossible - I can only pray we can survive it.


	7. City of Ashes

**The Muse is proud to announce a mini break in her pseudo vacation with an update for ya'll. It's **_**a lot **_**quieter and shorter than most (one of my infamous reflection chapters - stop your groaning and grumbling. Kiba and I can hear you and are prepared to swat all whiny reviewers with leftover candy canes) :P But I think you will enjoy it none-the-less. I hope you all have a happy and safe new year and here's to hoping that the upcoming year will bring lots of new ideas and lots of progress on the fic in a quicker manner than it is now. Enjoy folks.**

**Chapter Seven - City of Ashes**

Somewhere around the thirty second floor, the lights went out. Not the dimmed partial glow of generator supported emergency storm lights kind of out, but the kind of can't see shit three inches in front of you sort.

I place my foot hesitantly in front of me and grasp the corroded metal railing for support. We are fortunate to have made it this far. In those brief three seconds after the door was practically melted shut by the sheer power of that materia blast, the two of us could only sit there on the first of many platforms, holding one another and struggling to come to grips with the reality that less than three inches of steel separated us from a rejuvenated demonic general whose insanity had destroyed a village in a night and changed so many lives.

Sephiroth.

How is that even possible? The man died at the Nibelheim Reactor. Cloud killed him. It was witnessed by the Turks who assisted in carrying the two survivors back to the mansion for Hojo's sick pleasure. They'd found remnants of a battle having been fought there, and the distinct residue of someone who had been thrown from the catwalk into the mako below. No human, nor genetic experiment could have survived something like that and still been able to maintain the prose and brutal strength of actual thought and function.

But they never looked for the body. Quite possibly, our department's greatest screw up in history. We never actually got the _chance _to confirm that particular man's death. From what I remember, shortly after the incident, I was told to burn any and all paperwork on Nibelheim's town, civilians, reactors - everything. It didn't matter if it was marked urgent, top secret, classified. Everything had to go under penalty of treason and execution.

Tseng had only allowed me to keep the barebones of my assignment on pursuing Zackary Fair, and even that was to be encrypted so that only my eyes knew it existed. And I destroyed that file when I enlisted with AVALANCHE.

Whatever Hojo was up to had to have been orchestrated with the company's blessing. The only question is what in the hell that madman was allowed to get away with in that basement during those four years.

Reno's been quiet since the incident. I don't think he even has words for something like this. None of us do. And when Tseng finds out - like that man doesn't already know - all holy hell is going to break loose. No one is going to believe any of this.

A dead legend, back from the afterlife and equipped for revenge with a bone to pick with anyone and everyone. Fantastic. But how does one even start to go about containing a monstrosity such as Sephiroth and hope to survive long enough to accomplish much of anything?

They don't. They simply don't.

My feet strike solid cement, a welcome change to the rickety steel stairwell we've been navigating for an unknown amount of time. Reno sighs and swings his EMR through the air, the luster of the weapon lost to the stuffy silence of the ground floor. The door shrieks as it opens, unnatural light spilling into the darkness.

A siren wails somewhere to the north and a frigid blast of wind tears through the door. I hug Reno's blazer closer to my body and struggle to prevent myself from shivering. Wintertime in Midgar. I don't recall it ever being this cold out.

The ash falls, like gentle snow across the slate gray pavement, broken and littered with glass and fallen stone. Tumultuous gray clouds churn along a screen of dark dust that lingers against their once silver lining, trapped somewhere between Heaven and Hell, but denied access to both. It's not raining in Midgar today, but I wish it was.

A car lies overturned, corroded side facing the fractured corner of the Shinra Building. I do not need to know what force of nature knocked it over. I already know.

Reno grasps my hand and leads me to the west - towards Sector Eight's LOVELESS District, a fact I am most grateful for. Beyond those crumbling buildings to the east lies the ruins of Sector Seven.

I should turn around and look. I know I should. But the watchdog within prevents me from doing so. No. _Jessie_ prevents me from doing so. There are too many memories behind that row of crumbling buildings. Memories I am not prepared to face.

The fountain is broken, shrapnel littering its once pristine and gentle surface in hideous cracks. As though someone sped away on a motorcycle and cleaved into its surface with a blade of some sort. Bullet holes riddle the remnants of the foundation where a mixture of ash and water flow together in a dark, oily sludge. There are footprints amid the broken glass. Lots of footprints. And, paw prints? Maybe we don't want to know.

I hope whoever fled this way got away alive.

Reno glances towards the broken wall of the exhibition room in bewilderment. Tire tracks line the cement stairs and trail somewhere towards the Sector Five Highway. Someone came through this way. Minutes ago from the looks of it.

And Scarlet's people too. Their trail is even clearer by the bodies of innocent bystanders scattered further along the street, torn asunder by the bullets. Gods. Death is everywhere tonight.

An older woman glances up from what I assume is her fallen husband, tears in her eyes as we pass. I cannot even look. It's far too painful. Shinra did this. So many people have died because of what Shinra has allowed to occur within its steel walls.

Reno squeezes my hand in silence. The ash clings to our hair and blankets our blazers in a fine dusting carried by the ever changing winds of the wastelands. He knows what sins we are being judged for by this woman, and everyone we encounter.

It's like we wear our sins on our sleeves for all to see. They don't understand. We hurt just as much as they do over this, if not more so. They see the dark suits of the company we represent. But they don't know that the two of us, once friends, once comrades, are enemies because of the rift known as Shinra driven between us. They were not there on the plate, struggling to decide destiny with as much certainty of the flip of a coin. They did not face one another with pleading desire for the other to turn back and abandon their mission.

They were not forced to choose between obedience and treason. Life and Death. Friendship and Betrayal.

They only see us for what we represent. Not for who we are. And that is a painful wound from which no watchdog of Shinra ever stops bleeding from.

Reno grits his teeth and increases his pace. He's bitter. That fire in his eyes, determination manifested into flesh with the dying flick of the Electro-Mag rod into the off position. I move to follow, not meeting the woman's gaze.

Midgar has become a city of ashes from which there is no putting the fires out.


	8. Seeking Sanctuary

**Just a heads up folks, the Muse is not exactly back from her lengthy hiatus yet, but she is working on it as quickly as she possibly can. I can promise that updates will get bigger, bolder, and faster once February rolls around, but until then, if you don't see much of me, it's because I'm swamped with deadlines and my fan fic life is temporarily on hold. I'll make it up to ya'll though. I always do. Same deal for the One Hundred Tiny Missions People. Until then, enjoy this quick update folks. **

**Chapter Eight - Seeking Sanctuary**

By what I assume to be late morning, Reno and I have covered three sectors and two blocks of ash covered alleyways and icy sidewalks to arrive at a seedy little intersection somewhere in the northern quadrant of Sector Two. I'm not sure just why we are in Sector Two under the all-revealing cover of broad daylight, nor do I feel up to asking at the moment. My legs hurt and my hands are so cold I can barely feel them despite my best efforts at trying to gain some semblance of warmth back into the flesh. This must be Reno's summer uniform.

His long strides finally draw to a halt a little over three fourths of a block from the intersection and he checks something on what appears to be a PHS. That's different. Since when does Reno of all people actually carry a phone? We couldn't even bribe him to try keeping one on him back when I _was _a Turk. Back then you practically had to use a combination of passenger pigeon and smoke signals to get his attention. Wonder what changed.

Maybe I don't want to even know.

After a long few seconds spent staring at a glowing screen containing what appears to be a text message of some sort I can't make out on it, he glances up at the corroded plaque nailed to the side of a crumbling brick building where lines of laundry are strung across the narrow alleyway building walls several floors up. A civilian district. I can only imagine what we are doing here.

Reno flips his phone closed and tucks it away in his front pocket before turning and heading up the set of ice glazed cement stairs to the brick building and opens the weathered wooden entrance door. Boarded up windows greet us to the left. Fractured glass panes to the right. I wish I knew where in the hell we are. This place gives me the creeps.

Inside fares little better. Bullet holes riddle the walls along the narrow, dark corridor with the ominous blinking iridescent light in desperate need of changing. Floorboards are broken and caught in some sort of upheaval. Some sort of dark liquid stains the walls in disorganized splotches, but I can't tell if they are from the leaking exposed pipes in the corner, or something else. The disgusting scent of cigarettes lingers from beneath the closed doors with the rusty numbers hung at crooked angles.

Suddenly, I wish we were back in the slums under the plate. There are slums, and then there are _slums_. This is one of those upper world ones of the second category. At least Seventh Heaven and from what I could see of the other buildings in that area were better maintained that this place ever was. Then again, beggars cannot be choosy and at the moment I wasn't keen on setting foot in Sector Seven either. Being homeless, hurt, and hungry will do that do even the best of watchdogs.

Reno makes a left to another set of stairs and I'm obligated to follow. Gods. It feels like these floorboards will give at any moment, sending me to the basement, if there is one.

Apartment 5 D7. Figures we'd be somewhere in the middle of the building. I'm almost afraid to even ask what for thing lurks behind the door. Reno pulls a rusty key out of his pocket and unlocks the door. Odd. I didn't even know they still made those type of keys for anything aside from vehicles.

"Looks like this is the place." Reno reaches around the corner and flips a light switch. Dull light spills from the cobweb crusted light upon the wall where the floral print wallpaper is peeling away from the rotting wall to expose several sets of twisted wires. Mildew. Natures way of condemning a building.

The only inhabitable piece of furniture that looks even remotely useable at the moment is an ancient plastic covered couch tucked somewhere in the far corner beside the crowded kitchen where a leaky faucet drips. I cannot help but look at Reno over this. He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

"Heh. At least it has electricity and heat."

Heat. Yeah. Right. Those radiator pipes will probably explode the moment anyone touches the thermostat. Not that I have any intention of trying it anytime soon. I have that sort of luck with electricity.

Reno checks something against his phone yet again and walks over to the dust-crusted window and double checks that the blinds are drawn closed and the curtains preventing any light from getting in, or getting out. Once everything seems to be in order, he drops his stern sense of bitterness in favor of a more casual look about him. Something much friendlier than the look he gave everyone en route from Shinra to this building.

Now that I think about it. No one saw us even approach this building to begin with. I really am slipping to not have noticed it.

"'Nei? You okay?"

"Yeah," I quietly defend my absent minded moment in favor of a lie I know he is not buying. "I'm fine. Just tired."

"Can't argue with that. After what we've been through, I'm half surprised you even made it this far." He plops down upon the couch and wrinkles his nose as the dust clouds the air. "It won't be a bad little place once it's all cleaned up."

"Yeah." I take a seat beside him, my eyelids heavier than usual. He smiles and drapes an arm around my shoulders, drawing me close enough to use his shoulder for a pillow. Better. Things will get better.

The sharp echo of a door being opened makes me reach for my weapon out of instinct. Instead of cold steel though, my fingers curl around a soft woolen blanket. Where am I?

Voices. Hushed tones that grate my ears with their presence from somewhere on the opposite side of the room. I toss the blanket aside and sit up from where I had fallen asleep on the couch, a vicious headache my reward for the effort. What time is it anyway?

"But we can't just leave her here yo. It's too dangerous."

"We might not have a choice."

Tseng. What's he doing here? I retrieve the blanket and draw it across my shoulders to stave off the encroaching chill to the air as it creeps through the cracks in the wall. Reno's fist connects with the surface of a dusty table out of frustration.

"Like hell yo. After all the shit we had to go through to reach this place, I'll be damned if I let her here for some crazy psycho woman to pick off with one of her snipers."

I sense another argument brewing between these two.

"Reno. Even if there was another place I could send you both, I am not certain she would be up to the task. You saw how tired she got just in that short amount of time."

Tired is an understatement. I'm beyond exhausted at the moment. Reno throws his hands up in the air in typical flustered Turk style.

"We were attacked by a sword wielding nut job of a dead man for Gaia's sake! Hell. By the time we got the hell out of there, I was tired."

At this, Tseng becomes near silent, dark eyes taking in the room and not meeting eye contact with my red haired comrade. Something tells me I am not going to like what he's going to say.

"Were you followed?"

"Not that I know of."

"Good." He sets what appears to be some sort of briefcase upon the table and flicks open the metal clasps. "Go get her. There is something I need to show you both that changes the plan significantly."

Go get me. Sheesh. You would swear I'm some sort of animal or something that sits in a cage until my handlers have something for me to do. Well, I'm no such thing and the watchdog does not appreciate being touted as a possession. I pick my way off of the couch and begin limping towards them despite the headache.

"Can I ask just what in the hell is going on?" There. I said it. What I've been thinking ever since that damn plate went down. I want my explanation.

Tseng looks at me with a light hint of surprise to see me up and moving around already. It's not like I'm completely useless.

"Cissnei." Go ahead. Say my name like that again and I might just do a trick or best case scenario if I had a tail, I'd make lame attempt at wagging it. Right now, I'm not in the mood to deal with anyone, especially you Tseng. Now get to the damn point while I'm up and about.

He gestures to the briefcase and withdraws a thin laptop computer. Reno raises an eyebrow and creeps closer as the elder Turk in charge types something on the main screen - a security clearance code no doubt - and turns it so that both of us have a good view of the screen.

A bright, yet somewhat static crossed image fills the box with that bastardized blond haired menace that President Shinra had somehow managed to produce more than twenty something years ago. Rufus Shinra himself, standing behind his father's podium in that hideous white suit he was always so fond of. Hair neatly combed and blue eyes narrowed with sinister intentions, he slams a fist against the top of the podium and faces the camera.

"My fellow citizens. Earlier this morning there was an incident in the Shinra Building Headquarters in which the former president was found murdered in his office."

Murdered? Oh my god. I know we wanted the man dead, but who would actually go through with doing something like this? Reno rests a hand atop my shoulder with equal surprise. This is definitely news to us. Rufus continues to address the nation with a stern sense of uncontrolled arrogance about him.

"He left a legacy of unprecedented growth to the city he constructed from the ground up. Through careful research of new, improved methods of refining mako into a renewable energy source, he was able to take this country and many others around the world into the next century and it is with great sorrow that his passing befalls us all in a time when mako energy is revolutionizing the world yet again to the next level."

Revolutionized my ass. All he did was kill off the vegetation and drive the social classes into a nightmare of poverty and cloak and dagger wealth. President Shinra was no saint that's for damn sure.

"It is with great sorrow that I assume the position of President in my father's place-"

My heart nearly stops at the very thought. For years, we Turks feared a Rufus Shinra Presidency. It was something we did not believe even to be possible for fear of the massive amounts of torment and fear that would be unleashed. That child is the devil in disguise with an evil streak twice that of his father and the ability to fall to the whims of those who share executive power around him.

"We will hunt these terrorists down and see to it that they pay for every life lost in the reactor bombings, Sector Seven's untimely collapse, and again this morning when they broke free from prison and murdered my father. There shall be no negotiations with terrorists like AVALANCHE, only executions. It is with great pride I appoint whatever resources necessary to Weapons Research to see to it that only the finest tools are implemented in the search for these criminals all in the name of civilian safety."

"That's just bullshit Tseng. We did not kill all of those people!" I'm outraged. No, beyond outraged. We did not destroy the pillar holding Sector Seven up. We tried to prevent the death toll from rising because of it! And that goddamn little arrogant son of a bitch is going to get away with pinning everything on us. I'd kill him myself if I got the opportunity.

Tseng flips the laptop screen closed with a scrutinizing sigh and glares at Reno.

"That's not what it looks like."

"How do you think I feel about this?" I point to the laptop out of rage. "God damn it Tseng. I look even guiltier than I did yesterday because of this. I may have had something to do with Reactors One and Five. But I did not kill the president!"

Reno steps into the ring of fire to assist me in challenging the top dog over this. I'm not ready to back down until I prove my point - quite possibly my greatest flaw to date.

"She's right yo. There's no way she could have. She was with me the whole time this morning."

"Don't you think I don't know that Reno?" Tseng growls. "The problem lies with the fact that her little comrades also escaped around the same time she did, which looks like the two incidents were coordinated."

"If you're going to talk about me then at least have the nerve to say what you need to say to my face." I cross my arms across my chest and continue to glare. I don't trust myself to even get within range of something I can throw at him. This is his fault I'm in this mess. If he had just left me die on that plate, none of this might be happening right now. But no. He just had to go and make this a million times worse.

"You be quiet."

"Like hell I'll be quiet."

"I know you couldn't have killed the president," he snaps with that familiar twitch of his eyebrow that warns me to quit while I'm ahead. Thankfully, that little watchdog who shares my temper knows to back off even a little bit. "Because we found Sephiroth's sword at the scene of the crime."

He takes a seat and drums his fingers across the surface of the laptop, facing Reno and I with a look that says he's got a plan brewing in his mind.

"Sit."

A command. Not a suggestion and we both oblige out of routine habit. His eyes narrow as he studies us both.

"Here's how this is going to be handled."


	9. Fox and the Hound

**Hi there folks. Haven't got much of an opening rant this week, so have fun reading the latest installment of the fic. ;) Hopefully, it will live up to expectations and ya'll will enjoy it.**

**Chapter Nine - Fox and the Hound**

I've heard a lot of terms thrown around the Department of Administrative Research over the years, but nothing like the brief, strained rundown of terms Tseng has been throwing at me over the past ten minutes.

"What did you just call me?" I'm good with languages. You can't debate that. I was forced to learn fluent Wutainese when I first encountered Tseng in my youth and ended up learning that he was going to be in charge sooner or later. And if one can consider Reno's slack jawed gangster dialect from Junon and Rude's Costan I'd say I know some words that would have put most men to shame. But I don't even know what to think of Tseng's method of explaining things, or even if that is a code for something I'm supposed to already know.

"I called you a Fox."

Reno leans an elbow upon the table as if the term is up for debate.

"Hate to break it to ya boss, but she's a little young for you."

Tseng sighs and rubs his forehead as if there is some secret method of shutting Reno up to look forward to.

"It's not used in that context Reno. The Turks have never had to deal with something like this before. One of our own is wanted for a serious crime that carries the penalty of death with it if she is caught." He holds a hand up for silence before I can even say a word. Better let him finish. "The only difference is the fact that you've played both sides of the fence fairly well Cissnei. Impressive for being without instruction, and just as equally problematic. It proves that you did this on your own free will. And as you already know, any and all defenses you had with Shinra have been terminated."

"I am aware."

"I figured as much. However, that leaves me caught with a difficult choice to make that could do more harm than good in the long run. It's a long shot to even attempt, but at this stage of the game, it's all I have left to offer without simply shooting you and presenting the body to Shinra."

Fantastic. I feel a whole hell of a lot better now. He was planning on shooting me anyway. I should probably be groveling for my life right now, but I have no intention of giving him that satisfaction.

"Then why did you let me live?" My words are cold, emotionless even. Probably the only thing I still have left from being a Turk that seems to be mine. Tseng's cold obsidian eyes meet my own.

"You are much more valuable to me alive than dead Cissnei."

"I don't see how. It's not like I am still on your side." In my defense, it is a perfectly logical response to such a question. The best he can do is turn me in to save himself while he still can. Poor bastard will probably make a deal with the devil and I'll be right back where I started - on death row. Which in a sense, makes all of this pointless.

Instead of answering me directly though, simply he tosses a small black PHS onto the table.

"You have a connection to AVALANCHE that no one from our department was able to obtain under the best of attempts over the ten year span of observation we had in place to monitor Elfe and her crew. And somehow you were able to uphold that connection and assimilate into their group to the point where you became one of them. I want to know how you did it. Why Wallace did not shoot you on sight."

Oh, if only you knew. He shot all right. He just happened to miss.

"I took advantage of a bleak situation in order to survive. That's all."

His eyes remain stoic like a panther about to spring but waiting for the right moment to catch me off guard.

"Like the fox, you are sly and clever. I'm seeing a different side of you that I never thought even existed. You're protecting them. Why?"

"That is none of your business."

"Answer the damn question."

A hand strikes the table with enough force to rattle every inch of it. Tseng's cold eyes continue to bore into my soul and for a brief moment, I'm actually scared of him. In less than a split second he could draw that pistol at his side and shoot me. Best case scenario, he kills me outright. Worse case, he wounds me and lets me here to die a agonizingly slow death.

"Yo, boss. Maybe she-" Reno shuts up at the half glance cast his way.

"This is between me and Miss Starling." The lethal edge to his voice surprises even my comrade. "If you wish to join the interrogation, I shall see to it that you put that Electro Mag Rod to good use. I am not here for a casual visit."

You never are. I feel my heart quicken as his gaze turns back on me. This is it. I'm going to die.

"When I ask a question, I expect an answer. Now," the click of the pistol fills the air triggering every instinctive warning to survive into overdrive. Shit. He really does plan on murdering me. He's pissed at me. "Tell me how you ended up getting on Wallace's good side."

"I can't."

It's the truth. I don't know why they allowed me into their lair. Why they kept me as a member of their oddball family. Family. That's what we were. A crazy, mixed up, all too strange family without a clue. A family I still relate to. Jessie relates to.

"Reno." Tseng's voice darkens to a tone I've only heard him use once before. "Your EMR. Give it to me."

"What? You can't be serious. You said this was a nonviolent confrontation!"

"Do not make me have to ask you twice. Give me your damn weapon."

"No sir." Reno stands between me and Tseng, holding the EMR level with my former boss.

"Stand aside Reno."

"You said nonviolent."

"And it will not become violent if you step aside as instructed." He draws a pair of black leather gloves from his blazer pocket and slides them onto his pale hands. "You knew what you were getting into when you accepted the assignment."

"You touch her. I swear to god I'll kill you myself."

Reno…

Tseng allows a brief half smile and adjusts the gloves with the same finesse a well mannered gentleman might. I think I'm going to be sick.

He slides a clip into the pistol as though it is just another job, the deafening snap as it locks into place sending a quiver of terror through every muscle in my body. It is a sound I know well. But in Tseng's hands, that weapon is lethal every time it is fired. No one has ever been able to outshoot the leader of the Turks. No one. With a 99.9 percent kill record, I don't have to worry about him missing at least.

"You run. I will shoot you. You cooperate. You get to live another day with the ability to walk. I suggest you heed the warning. You are much more valuable to me if you are not in a wheelchair."

"You would not dare."

The trigger clicks and those soulless eyes continue to study me.

"It is not about whether you live or not Cissnei. You would be wise to think before you speak, as I get to pick your quality of life. Now. I believe you were going to answer a question of mine."

"Answer him 'Nei." Reno closes his eyes with a barely audible curse and turns away. Great to know who your friends are.

Acquaintances, the watchdog reminds me. Turk's don't have friends. I should have run when I had the chance.

"Now. I'll ask again." His fingers wrap around the pistol tighter, finger on the trigger. "Wallace's good side. How did you get on it?"

"It was an accident. They lost a lot of people in one wrong attempt at a reactor explosion, okay." I snarl, the Turk in me seizing control while the terrified AVALANCHE member cowers out of fear of being in close proximity of the one man that scares me half to death on a good day. "They needed a technologically literate person and I just happened to be available at the time. They were understaffed. I was desperate to survive. You want to base this on how truthful I am being with you, then go right ahead and pull that trigger. I'll stand right here and take my chances."

Tseng lowers the weapon at the outburst born of raw terror a fraction of an inch, that soul piercing gaze preventing me from fleeing. It's like staring into the eyes of a hungry hound who has cornered the fox and is awaiting the approach of the hunters. A fox and a hound.

Metal clicks with a grating echo that makes me cringe, the clip falling into his palm. Not taking his eyes from me, he casts the pistol onto the table beside the PHS and once again places both hands atop the table's surface.

"Next time you even think about disobeying a direct order to answer a simple question, the consequences will be a thousand times worse than being shot. Do we have an equal understanding?"

"Yes." Tseng's eyes narrow with still smoldering rage towards me.

"You will address me as Sir."

"Yes sir." Defeat. The most bitter of the Turk admittances. But what choice do I have at this point? At any given moment, he could reach across this table and probably strangle me before I even knew what was happening. I already know I cannot count of Reno to bail me out this time.

"That's better." He withdraws a notebook from his front pocket and a pen, flipping it open and breaking eye contact for a split second. "Disobedience will not be tolerated without adept punishment. I suggest you keep that in mind from now on as you are in no position to get yourself out of this situation alive."

In case you haven't noticed oh high and mighty leader of the pack, I am not exactly on good grounds with anyone anymore, least of all you. My odds of survival seem to be dwindling with every damn word you say, and I am just supposed to sit back and let this happen. Unfortunately, I'm too damn stubborn to just give up.

If I am to be labeled as a fox, then I'll behave like one.

"Like you understand what drove me to do this Tseng. Do you honestly think that if I could have come back to Shinra, I would have went to AVALANCHE? I wanted to come back to that company. I tried to come back. I was set up to the point where it was impossible for me to return to this company without ending up dead."

Tseng taps his pen against the table, unconvinced.

"You should have tried to make contact with me. What you did was stupid, and irresponsible. And now because of it, you've jeopardized every member of the Turks."

"I never intended for this to happen." And I didn't. Had it been up to me, I would have not even gone on that mission. I would have let Reno accompany me back to headquarters.

"But it did." Tseng scowls. "And now someone needs to take the fall for it. You should be grateful I let you live this long. Veld would have turned you over the moment he knew you were involved with AVALANCHE."

"What's stopping you then?" I ask darkly. "You could turn me in right now and Shinra would let you off the hook of suspicion in aiding a criminal. In fact, they would be none the wiser because you were doing your job. They would not even have to know you were involved in my escape."

"The last place I need you to be is back in Shinra's hands Cissnei. Had I had any intention of turning over one of my most dangerous Turks, I would have done so when your loyalty was first questioned during your initial encounters with Mr. Fair. You would not have lived long enough to travel to Nibelheim to encounter the escaped specimens and let them go as you did. It is my duty to ensure that all of my employees are loyal to a fault-" he once again looks at the pistol. "And to terminate those who are not. Just because Shinra possessed ownership of you, did not mean I could not have recognized and terminated a threat before it became what it did. I had ample opportunity to kill you over the past few months and no questions would have been asked. Had I known what was going to materialize now, I would have gladly done so."

How comforting. The man who sent me on assignment all of these years had planned on killing me well before I met Zack anyway. Great. How do I know he did not partake in having my helicopter shot down? That would have fixed the problem and covered up Nibelheim all right. He just never counted on me surviving.

"The spectrum of plausible events has changed. The rules have changed. You did what Shinra wrote off as not being possible by forging a Turk-AVALANCHE alliance that lead to damn near crippling an impenetrable company. The problem is that I have orders and all of your former comrades have orders to ensure you end up in Scarlet's hands for a public execution to satisfy the public. A rather violent and painful execution that makes me question that woman's sanity."

My day is never going to get better is it? Alright. Let's hear the rest of the bad news. Might as well get it over with as soon as possible.

"You killed the president Cissnei. That is a crime that-"

"Whoa whoa whoa. She did not!" Reno defends with a no nonsense attitude about him. "That psycho ghost with a katana did that. We were nowhere near the president's office yo!"

"That's not what the evidence says Reno." I open my mouth to protest, but am interrupted by Tseng yet again. "There is enough evidence to convict you alone of orchestrating not only the death of President Shinra, but the collapse of Sector Seven, and every successful reactor bombing that has taken place since you deflected from Shinra. Rufus does not even need anyone else from AVALANCHE to settle this matter. He needs one woman who got careless in her dealings."

Reno crosses his arms defensively as though what was said is not a big deal. "Well the evidence lies yo."

"Fingerprints don't Reno." Tseng replies grimly, that hostile sense of malice back in his tone. "And hers were all over the knife she threw at President Shinra back at Sector Five's reactor. Right there you have a potential murder weapon, a motive, and a full one hundred percent match on the person responsible."

Now I really _am_ going to be sick. How could I be so stupid? I bury my face in my hands in defeat. Gods this is not happening. It can't be happening. No matter how you look at this, I'm screwed. Tseng reaches across the table and grasps my hand forcefully.

"This is why you are not going to make the same mistake twice. You have a connection to AVALANCHE that could very well jeopardize the future of Shinra. That is the only thing that is going to keep you alive and useful at the moment to the Turks. If you choose to not cooperate, you are well aware of what we are capable of doing to you." He slides the pistol closer. "I assume you remember how to use one of these."

I nod in response. Why does it feel like I'm selling my soul?

"Good. That saves me the trouble of assigning someone to protect you."

He hands me the PHS.

"It's an untraceable line. When I call you, I expect you to answer it. Failure to do so will be taken as an attempt at treason against the Turks. Until I give the order, you will remain where you are, do as I say, and obey every command I give you to the letter. You are a fox in a hound's world where the penalty for disobedience is death. Do you understand?"

"Yes sir."

I'll do this. But I won't be happy about it.


	10. Bait and Trace

**Whoa, it really has been a while since I got any updates posted. Sorry about that folks. I've been a busy Muse lately. But that's okay, because throughout February, I actually have free time to work on this fic and the other one, so you should be seeing semi-regular updates. While I go work on them, enjoy this chapter and hopefully, it's up to par as far as getting involved with the main plot goes. :)**

**Chapter Ten - Bait and Trace**

This place is driving me stir crazy. One can only sweep the same floor so many times before considering throwing this battered whisking broom I found in the closet out the window. Forget the damn window. I can't even look outside for fear of there being a sniper somewhere in the wings of a building waiting for me to walk into range. Hell, I cannot even draw back the several layers of moth eaten curtains and the plastic blinds to let the cloudy excuse for outside light in. Curtains stay shut. No light gets in or out. Tseng's orders, not mine.

If I want to stay alive, I have no choice but to obey his commands. And the final verdict is, I'm stuck cleaning the place without any natural light to offset the dullness of whatever life remains in the exposed ceiling light bulb. No one is supposed to be living in the abandoned apartment 4. D 57.

It's really not that bad of a place with the floor swept and the cobwebs disposed of. So long as there are no remaining spiders holding out, I have yet to encounter any of any threat, I might even come to call this place home willingly. That is if that damn Wutainese woman down the hallway ever stops yelling at her washing machine and the newlyweds on the floor above ever stop their explicit activities.

With a sigh of semi-accomplishment at managing to get most of the kitchen-living room-bedroom-closet area about as clean as it is probably ever going to get, I set the broom back in its place. It's probably not going to get much cleaner than this. After all, it's not like there is much else to do around here aside from clean and listen to the sounds of the apartment complex through wafer thin walls and hope for the best.

It's been three days since my confrontation with Tseng. Three long, bitter days. I don't understand what leaving me here with a task that he of all people should be well aware would take me only one day to complete, leaving two filled with perpetual tension of wondering just what in the hell he has planned for me. He's punishing me. Definitely Tseng's way of reminding me where I rank in the pack.

I guess I should be happy I still have somewhat of a pack to lay claim to. He could have done away with me for good, but no. Tseng's too damn nice for his own good. And now I'm going to pay for my screw up. This must be how Zack felt when they sent him on extended vacation all those times.

The only problem is that when Turks get bored, we become destructive. One need not look much farther than Reno to see what I'm talking about. Unfortunately, I've never actually had days off that weren't part of some sort of intermission between missions, even with AVALANCHE.

It's the not knowing what is coming that is what has me bothered. Sure, I've been through the motions of an unknown mission before. But I've never felt this blind about it.

The PHS shrills with the harshness of a bolt spell being unleashed, shattering the brief quietness of the room. Speak of the devil. And here I was starting to enjoy being bored. Might as well see what he wants.

"Cissnei."

"Tseng." I reply, still bitter about the last confrontation with this man. I'm done trying to negotiate my way out of things.

"I have a mission for you."

"Yeah, well I haven't got much of a choice to accept now do I?"

The is rustling on the opposite side of the line, as though he is sitting at his desk with a packet of papers in front of him. Probably still wading through the chaos Sephiroth caused no doubt.

"Listen to me," he sighs in notable defeat. "I know you are not happy with the arrangement. I do not like this either, but this is how it has to be done. If you want to go fight the entire Shinra infantry and get yourself killed, there's nothing I can really do to stop you. But I will not come to your aid either. If you want any chance at getting away from Shinra alive, then you are going to have meet me half way here."

Half way? How is keeping me locked up in some apartment complex meeting anyone halfway?

You're being irrational again, that inner watchdog reminds me. Tseng is just trying to make this whole transition go a lot easier for the both of us. Perhaps I'm the one making this out to be worse than it already is.

"Cissnei?"

I should just hang up this phone right now and take my chances. But that distant part of me prevents me from doing so. This could be my only chance at finding out just who else got away when Sephiroth murdered President Shinra. It sounds like Barret might have been one of them. If I can find out who all escaped, I might just have a chance to get out of this mess.

"What do you need me to do?"

"A simple bait and trace mission." The sound of papers shuffling. "Your specialty."

Bait and trace eh? I hate those sort of missions. No one ever talks about anything interesting anyway.

"No offense sir, but how exactly do you intend on me gaining a trace on anything in this place? Last time I checked, you took the power cord and the backup battery from that laptop so that I could not hack into the Shinra database, delete my file, change my identity, and flee the country while you were not babysitting me."

Not what Tseng wants to hear, but this is my way of being an ass about this. Half way without the proper tools to meet him half way. Typical Department of Administrative Research way of handling things.

"No doubt you still intend on fleeing when we're not looking." There is a minor hint of amusement to his words. Amusement, with Tseng. I better start looking for that damn sniper now.

"Damn straight. First chance I get, I'm out of here." He knows I am more than capable of doing it too. All I need is a semi-clear path and a place to go where they would never look.

"I figured as much," he replies, more shuffling of papers. "Which is why I want you to be prepared before I turn you loose into the big world outside of Midgar."

Prepared? First he wants me dead and now he wants to prepare me to leave Midgar? Something doesn't sit well here.

"You're lying." I cannot help but call him on this one. No well respecting Turk lets another go without first getting something in return. It's a rule we all live by.

"I see you haven't forgotten then. Good. We're going to make a trade. I'll drop off the battery to that computer this afternoon, and you get me a trace on the PHS number I am holding in my hand."

"You're not afraid that I'll take the chance and run?"

"Not at all. In fact, I would like to see you try." He's being way too casual about this for being leader of the Turks considering how our meeting the other day went. He's got some form of leash. He has to. The moment I run, he'll find some way to stop me in my tracks and bring me back here. Something tells me I'm about to regret ever answering this phone.

"You're going to regret this Tseng."

"I already do."

True to his word, he drops the battery off some three hours later in the cobwebbed mail slot in the center of the door. We don't make any eye contact. Hell. I don't even bother to answer the door. He knows I'm 'following' orders, even though I'm just being spiteful about it. If anyone in this godforsaken building ever found out about what was going on here, everything could be jeopardized more than it already is.

I retrieve the brown paper wrapped battery and pry the small envelop from its surface. Looks like Tseng gave me the number I'm supposed to find a trace on. Good. That's one less phone call I need to make.

The laptop flickers to life with the annoying hum of the inner fan. It doesn't take long to hack past the password and into the main hard drive to access the wireless connection. Looks like I'm invisible at least, once again streamlining along the Shinra Information Highway alongside ten thousand other Shinra employees across the global network. Unfortunately, what I need is only accessible by, well, specialized 'informants'.

I type in my old ID number and access my account, keeping careful look at the number of people on the executive web. Heh, just a bunch of so called tech gurus who think they know what they're doing. Let's see how a well placed virus in their program files go. I send the standard disabling virus directly to their computer, watching their network go down before proceeding. Ten minutes. That's all I'll have before they figure out something is going on, if they do at all. I'll be long gone without a trace by then.

Let's see. I click on the information I need. Good thing I organized these files years ago, or else I'd be here forever. Phone records. Perfect.

The name that returns on my search makes my fingers stop cold above the keyboard. This is not possible, right? There has to be some sort of mistake here. I mean, no, damn it Tseng.

I dial the number out of frustration, rereading the text on the screen.

"You did this on purpose." Is all I say before he can get one word in.

"I need that trace Cissnei."

"Zack's gonna haunt you from the grave, you know that?" A part of me wonders if somewhere the raven haired SOLDIER is watching this, plotting some way to prevent me from pressing the code on my own PHS to sync it with the number on the screen.

"Cissnei." It's that lethal warning that lets me know that I am still in Tseng's grasp. With a sigh, I type in the code and sync the devices, watching the screen light up as I log out of the system and cover my tracks.

"There. I got your trace. Should I upload it to your PHS now or should I wait?"

"Actually, that is the second part of your assignment."

You have to be kidding me. I can't listen in on this.

"Tseng-"

"Do not make me have to remind you of the fragile fence you are currently trying to walk Cissnei. Call me when you get a location."

I press the button to activate the trace. Now, I just have to wait for the target to place a phone call.

And half of an hour later, I get what I dread - the PHS emits a low level ring I've assigned it. Without hesitation, I press the answer button and remain silent, letting the interior GPS tell me all I need to know while I wait for verbal confirmation.

_"What do you need Barret?"_

_"The hell Tifa. You said this damn farm was only two days away. We ain't anywhere close."_

I cannot help but allow a rare smile at the exasperation behind the words. Typical Barret, lost somewhere in the Midgar outer lands. So Barret and Tifa got off the pillar. Way to go guys. Well done.

_"How can you be lost?"_ Tifa sounds irritated._ "Aerith and I got here no problem."_

_"Well I ain't Aerith and these two ain't got no sense of direction! You can ask a tree or something for help. We gotta read a map."_

So, Aerith is with Tifa. Okay. That makes me feel a little bit better. At least she's not in any immediate danger of being killed by some random animal. Tifa can take care of her.

There is a growl of protest somewhere in the background on what sounds like Barret's line, as if some sort of animal is traveling with them.

_"We didn't ask any trees for help. We read the map and followed it."_

Now I hear Aerith snickering somewhere in the background. Typical males. They must have split the group somewhere along the line.

There is a mad scuffle, the sound of a PHS being knocked out of one very cranky leader's hands.

_"God damn it Spike. I'm the leader. I get to talk on the phone."_

_"Admit it. We're lost."_ The voice makes my heart skip a few beats.

Cloud. He's alive. He's really alive. The three of them, survived, and escaped. I-I can't believe this. After all of this, he made it. And he and Barret are coexisting together.

I sit deeper into the chair, unable to write anything down at the moment. For a moment, I merely listen with mixed feelings. Tseng knew about this. He had to have known.

_"Alright, look you three."_ Tifa sighs. _"Chocobo Billy's should be five miles to the north. You reach the marshes, you went to far. We'll wait for you here. Try to hurry guys. We'll never catch up at this rate."_

There is mixed grumbling from the boys that sounds something like an agreement and the line goes dead.

They're chasing someone. Gods, this is just getting worse and worse by the second. Now they're chasing after Sephiroth. I cannot imagine it would be anyone else.

Zack, please forgive me. I write down the location. Now I've got two people to worry about. Stay safe guys. Please don't get killed.

"Did you get the location?" Tseng asks with that darkness in his tone.

"Yes," I reply, circling the names one by one.

"And?"

With a sigh, I scratch out a few numbers. Thanks to Aerith's PHS, I now have whatever one Barret is using too.

"They're heading to the marshes Sir. Mithril Mines more than likely."

"Is Aerith amongst them?"

"Yes."

"And Strife?"

For a moment, I am silent, not ready to respond to Tseng's inquiry. I'll catch hell for it, but right now, I don't feel like talking.

"Cissnei. I'm going to offer you an ultimatum. If you run or interfere with this mission, I will make sure that every one of them ends up dead. The longer you cooperate, the longer I'll keep you on this mission. Do you understand?"

After what I've heard, I don't think I can run. "Yes sir."

"You did well. We'll be in touch."

I click the PHS onto silent and set it aside.

From now on, every time one of them makes a call, my own PHS will ring, allowing me to hear everything. I just hope I'm doing the right thing.


	11. Teakettles and Turks

**Ugh. This chapter didn't quite turn out like I thought it would. Dunno what the problem was, it sounded good in my head at the time, but it seems to lose some of the emotional charge it had no matter how many times I rewrite it. Oh well. I'm hoping that's just me though. Anyway, rant aside, enjoy this mini-filler update folks! I'll do better on the next one, promise.**

**Chapter Eleven - Teakettles and Turks**

My second set of problems for the day began over a cup of innocent spearmint tea. It's not that I do not like visitors, I just was not prepared for them tonight.

"So how've ya been 'Nei? This rat hole treating you alright?"

I set the teakettle on the stove in hopes of it actually boiling water this time. It's been sort of hit and miss most of the evening. Then again, I have the red head currently lounging on my couch to thank for this sanity salvaging kitchen utensil. I'll forever be in his debt.

"Aside from Tseng's orders that go against everything I believe in, it's been okay." I answer, adjusting the stove gauges and watching the first hints of steam attempt a sad trek towards the exit of the spout. At least this time I think this burner is working. One out of four isn't too bad I guess.

"Ah, so he's got _you _on the bait and trace mission then. I was wondering why he stormed out of his office today. I see he gave you the battery to the computer. Did ya try to hack the system and run away yet?"

I have to hand it to Reno. He's always in a fairly lighthearted mood about something so serious.

Come on water, start boiling so I can get this over with. It's not that I don't enjoy Reno's company. I'm just not in the mood to really talk to him tonight.

"No."

"Why not? It wouldn't be hard for you yo. Just break into the system, do your thing, and bam, you're on your way." He sounds way too enthusiastic about this whole idea.

"I can't Reno."

"Sure ya can 'Nei. You know Rude and I wouldn't chase ya. Tseng puts on a tough front, but we all know he would look the other way. You could make the border and get the hell out of here before anyone even knew it. Change your name, find a nice place to live, and everything. There's a world of opportunity out there 'Nei."

I take the kettle off of the burner some six minutes later and pour us both cups of tea. Why do I get the feeling the tea will be bitter tonight?

"Reno, you know that I want nothing more than to run and put this all behind me. But-"

"It's him, isn't it?" He leans forward and accepts the cup of tea, his mood somewhat disheartened, as though he has been dreading the answer. Odd. Usually Reno doesn't like tea enough to actually accept a cup. "I still don't know what exactly you see in him 'Nei. Gaia knows us Turks don't have that kind of relationship with infantrymen, current or former."

"It's not like that Reno." I sit down beside him, merely watching the dark liquid in the cup swirl back and forth against the chipped porcelain. Kind of like us. No matter how much you try to sweeten it, there is still bitterness beneath the surface that never goes away.

"Then what _is _it like 'Nei? You could have run hundreds of times over the past couple of days, and yet you didn't yo. What's Strife got that's keeping you here?"

Here we go. Trust Reno to be the jealous type over nothing with that tone of his. I sigh and take a sip of the tea. Yep. Bitter as usual. And here I was hoping we wouldn't fight tonight.

"We were just friends Reno." It's the truth. Our relationship was one of respect and little more. "It's hard to explain, but I feel that by sticking around and doing my supposed blackmailed 'job' I'm still capable of helping them achieve their goals of overthrowing Shinra. I'm not on your side anymore Reno. You know that."

"Nah. I understand where you're coming from. Hell. If I was in your position, I'd feel the same way yo. Shinra screwed you over. You have a right to be pissed off about it."

He drapes an arm over my shoulder and draws me against his side with a content sigh unbefitting of someone like him. It feels odd being this close to Reno.

"So," I inquire out of partially curiosity and partially because I just don't feel like discussing Cloud or the rest of the crew at the moment. "I assume you're going back to work soon?"

"Yeah, it sucks yo." He casually gestures towards the windows. "I gotta go back to being a Turk soon. Apparently I'm healthy as a goddamn horse, so the doctor says. And here I was starting to enjoy having some free time."

Free time. Whatever you say Reno. The last thing any of the Turks ever get is free time.

"Isn't that always how it is."

"Hey, 'Nei. I've been thinking about something. How about you and I run away after this is all over? You know, leave Midgar and find a nice little cozy place where no one can find us. Get married, raise a family, have all the things being a Turk prevents us from having. Celebrate being alive for a change."

For a moment, I cannot help but cast my former comrade a look of mild surprise. Out of all of the things he could have said, he just had to go and say something completely honest for a change. The scary part is, if that look in his eyes is any indication, he really isn't lying.

"Reno-" I'm not exactly certain how to answer him.

"Nah, I'm serious yo." Thankfully, I don't have to. "Being a Turk just doesn't have much of a future for me ya know. Ever since you left, it's been all downhill. Sure, I got Rude to talk to, but the newbie, I don't know. We just don't 'connect' if ya know what I mean. She's all high and mighty trying to 'civilize' me and domesticate me."

I cannot help but smile at the way he says it. "I've been trying to do that for years."

"Yeah, but you were different. You understand me and never tried to the point where you got on my nerves. I swear, just because her sister was cut out for the job, doesn't mean she is."

"That bad eh?" Somehow, I figured hiring her would have been a mistake at some point. If anything I heard at the train graveyard was an indication of hostility brewing in the pack.

"Gods, you have no idea. If I had a nickel for every time Tseng said he missed you, I'd be able to retire a wealthy man. Rumor has it Tseng's sending her out with Rude tomorrow morning. Something about that phone call you traced and the Ancient chick."

He's sending Elena to confront Cloud and the AVALANCHE pack. Has he lost his mind? If her aim is any worse than it was when I interviewed her, and if Cloud's still semi-psychotic in battle, she'll end up dead before the confrontation even begins. And knowing Rude, he'll just stand there and watch.

Reno tries a sip of the tea with a noticeable grimace.

"I'll have to remember to bring some sugar next time. This stuff's terrible."

"It's not that bad. Between learning to cook edible ramen and now tea, this is a step up."

The sad part is, there's truth in that statement. The fact that I somehow managed to cook something edible is really somewhat of a minor miracle I am duly proud of.

"Next time I'll bring real food for you. No sense keeping you like a dog."

"I appreciate it Reno."

He sighs and balances the teacup on the armrest of the couch.

"Give it some thought though, the running away thing." He winks and once again attempts to drink the tea. Gotta love Reno. He's got some of the most interesting ideas that have little success at ever taking place.

"Got a place in mind?"

"Nope," he smiles at the interest in his ideas. "But I promise it won't be an apartment. Gonna be a nice cozy house somewhere. Couple of acres of land, maybe a garden."

A garden? I cannot help by snicker at the prospect. Turks trying to grow a garden. I'm sure _that _would work out well. Knowing our luck the carrots and potatoes would stage a mutiny or something.

"And chocobos," Reno added, amused by the prospect. "We gotta have a chocobo or two."

"You dream too much," I reply, not really wanting to get off the couch to take the teacups to the sink.

"Hey, like you don't yo. What would your ideal homestead be then?"

To be honest, I never put much thought into it. All I've ever known has been Shinra. I always assumed I would die well before ever having to think about an actual life away from the Turks.

"It has to be away from people."

"Ya don't need to tell me twice. As far from people as we can go. Maybe an island or something." He checks his watch with that look of dread about him. It must be getting late. "Damn it. Tseng's gonna come looking for me if I don't get back to headquarters."

"It's alright." I take the teacup from him.

"Just, promise me you'll think about it, okay?"

I'll try Reno.


	12. Guarded Request

**Because I just wanted to get this chapter out of the way, I'm posting it rather quickly. The good news is that by early next week, you will have another update that really skyrockets the plot into high gear, so enjoy this one and the string of updates I'm managing to get in. (A bored Muse is a productive one). Can't say it will be as fruitful for the missions crew, but, meh, one out of two isn't bad. Thanks for the patience folks and before I forget, thanks to everyone who has been reading and reviewing. To the anonymous reviewers, thank you as well. (I usually write back in response to personally thank you all, but since I can't for anonymous reviewers I'll say thank you in general to everyone now.) They really help a Muse smile and stay motivated. :) Thanks again folks! **

**Chapter Twelve - Guarded Request**

Tseng drops a stack of papers on my kitchen table, looking quite possibly the most haggard I've ever seen him. He's either had an incredibly late night, or, judging by the way his blazer is not buttoned with the neatness and precision it usually possesses and the crookedness of his tie, he's been drinking. Something a lot stronger than wine. Hell, he probably went straight for the whisky and rum.

"Don't argue with me today Cissnei." He sits down with this sort of subdued, yet hostile presence about him. "I don't want to hear it. Just do your damn job so I can get this the hell over with. It has not been a good day."

Okay. I really wasn't going to say anything and he's already snapping at me. Must have been one hell of a night. I retrieve the papers from the table and flip through them out of habit. Casualty reports. A good many of infantrymen, possibly a couple of sergeants mixed into the fray. But what am I supposed to do about them?

"Sir, I don't understand what you expect me to do with these." It's a guarded inquiry, for fear he feels compelled to take whatever is pissing him off out on me. One knows it is only common sense that the fox does not provoke the irritated leader of the watchdog pack when he is more than capable of changing his mind about letting me live at any moment. And I don't exactly keep that pistol he gave me within easy reach of the kitchen table like I should.

Tseng gestures to the paperwork, his eyes narrowed in frustration. I've seen that look before, many times when Reno overstepped his boundaries. For once, I don't think I'm the one who pissed him off this morning.

"_They _are the reason I am _here_, talking to you, at four thirty in the morning when I should be murdering one of my careless subordinates at this hour for complicating the fragile situation even more than it already is."

So someone screwed up. Big surprise there. If what Reno was telling me heralded any indication of what was to come, then I think I know who was the party responsible for whatever has Tseng in such a bad mood. I reread the casualty reports once more, trying to figure out what would inspire him to drop them on my makeshift desk when he knows I'm simply not interested in sorting out Shinra's problems. That's their problem. I've got my own to deal with.

There. Written in dark, sweeping ink, barely visible against the endless ocean of stoic typed font crammed together to detail just how these people died. Most of them were shot in rapid fire succession from the looks of it. A few had been crushed by boulders thrown down at them at high rates of speed. Bones broken by what appear to be lethal martial arts moves and claw marks. And the sergeants appear to have been ripped apart by one hell of a sword.

These men belonged to Scarlet.

"Fort Condor, less than twenty four hours ago," Tseng replies. "The entire brigade was decimated. There was no way the citizens of that reactor's makeshift excuse for a fort could have done this on their own. There are too many inconsistencies."

I set the casualty reports onto the table.

"AVALANCHE was involved," is all I say, the get down to business side of me thirsting for more information while the compassionate rebel side tells me to not give up any information to the enemy.

"It is good to see you haven't lost your ability to investigate the big picture with only few details."

"Cut to the chase Tseng," I snap, somewhat annoyed that he chooses me to take his frustrations out on when for once _I'm _not the one who has done anything to piss him off recently. "You don't show up here unless you want something from me. And unless you have a job for me that's worth my time, I suggest you get out of here before I kick you out."

"Cissnei-"

Reno's suggestion to run is starting to sound pretty good right about now. No. I have to stand my ground. This is my territory and Tseng is the intruder. If this weird, messed up, downright disturbing relationship is going to work out, then it is my right to chase him away when he is not wanted. No one said the fox _had _to put up with the hound's whims all the time.

"Tseng. It's four thirty in the morning. Last time I checked the rulebook, I was following everything according to the letter. I haven't left this godforsaken apartment since I got here. My neighbors keep me up most of the night as it is. And now you're about to yell at me for something I didn't even do because I just told you who killed the people in these reports."

Tseng looks at me in mild surprise, as though just now remembering that not only did I major in hacking and intelligence gathering, but I also spent a good portion of my life learning to read body language. I'm fairly certain I can predict when I'm about to be shouted at.

"I'm sorry Cissnei. I did not mean to-"

"You brought me information Tseng. Now, what do you need me to do with it?" The sooner we get this over with the better. He runs a hand through his hair and gathers the paperwork into a semi-neat pile.

"Wallace and his crew took out a branch of the Shinra military in one sweep. I need information on everyone present. Since I cannot trust a job like this to any of your former comrades, I felt it was in my best interest, as well as yours to give you a little bit more to do. Reno said you might be going stir crazy here."

Stir crazy is an understatement and a half. _Thanks _Reno. I owe you one for giving me something to do. With a sigh, I rest my chin against my hand and merely study my former boss.

"No offense meant Sir, but what do you need me for? It's not like you do not already have information on everyone who might have been present. All you need to do is delegate it to someone for a quick look over and go from there. It's not exactly like Scarlet's troops didn't have this coming to them. Fort Condor's been at war for years since that bird set up a nest on top of the reactor."

"What did I tell you about arguing with me today?"

"I'm not arguing." And somewhere in the back of my mind, I want to believe I'm actually holding my ground, however small it be. "Hell, I don't even want a fight today Tseng. I was merely stating a fact."

Tseng taps his fingers against the surface of the table with that look about him. Fantastic. I'm about to catch all holy hell now. So much for trying to fend off the watchdog.

"Listen to me and listen well Cissnei. I do not like what happened out at Fort Condor any more than you do. I'm even less enthused that I cannot entrust this to just anyone in my department. I need your cooperation in this matter and unless you want off the case, you're going to give that much to me."

I don't need to be told what 'off the case' entails. Must be a rather high security mission if he cannot even give this one to my former comrades. That, or there is a greater than average chance of dying involved.

"What do you need me to do?"

"Thanks to a miscommunication on our end, I have reason to believe that AVALANCHE is going to make a reappearance in Junon sometime around Rufus's inauguration. Much as I would like to see that man succumb to the presence of a terrorist organization's vigilante views on Shinra, it is the Department of Administrative Research's obligation to defend the current man in charge. You should know that better than anyone."

Yeah. I've guarded that ass and his father a few times over the years. It's nerve-wracking as hell and makes you want to turn in your weapon immediately after the assignment is over. Guess I know why Tseng looks so haggard today. He must be on deck to keep Rufus from taking a bullet from a rebel sniper. And with Barret roaming around…Guess I do owe him the benefit of the doubt.

"Well don't look at me," I defend. "I wasn't responsible for whatever information got out."

And I wasn't. The last time I checked the computer, it was to see what phone lines were activated and still had a trace on them. I haven't heard much on the lines since they reached the Mithral Mines either, which means they must have reconvened right after making it through. Probably encountered Turks along the way. Just as Tseng has his pack, Barret has his way of running things. And the universal rule is, safety in numbers.

"I was there when it happened. Trust me. You're not the one I'm angry with."

Ouch. I would hate to be whichever Turk that was at the time.

"That's why I'm assigning you the responsibility of monitoring AVALANCHE to ensure they do not get close enough to assassinate Mr. Shinra. Rufus does not take their presence seriously and merely considers them nuisances. But, well, you have the proof in front of you. Wallace and his crew are dangerous criminals."

Is that rationalized _fear _I'm sensing? Tseng, oh so fearless Tseng of the Turks, is second guessing a direct confrontation with Barret and his pack? Holy the world is going to end.

"So I'm supposed to be a neutral party then?" Does Tseng even understand what side I'm supposed to be on? I'm not a Turk anymore.

"If you would like to think of it that way, yes. I want you to get into the security system via computer and monitor the events of Junon over the next couple of days. Look for things out of the ordinary. Any communications between AVALANCHE members that could be taken as a threat, I want to hear about."

You just don't want to get shot.

"And if I choose not to tell you if I do hear anything?"

"Let's make this simple. You're going to do whatever you have to do to ensure Strife, Wallace, and their band of rebels do not tangle with the infantry or any branch of the Shinra military so long as Rufus is accepting the oath of office. If by some chance, Rufus is assassinated over the next three days, this is going to be the first place Scarlet and Heidegger come with their military. Fortunately for you, the Turks need AVALANCHE alive until we can get a better grasp on Sephiroth's location. I trust you are more than capable of keeping them on radar long enough to allow us to follow them."

"Unfortunately." I reply with a less than enthusiastic joy for such a mission. I've gone from fox in hiding, to fox in hiding moonlighting as a tracking spy for the watchdogs. It is not going to be a good day.

"Cissnei. You know I do not like doing this to you on such short notice, and I wouldn't if I had another option."

"I understand. You need information, and I'm the only person you've got." Oddly enough, I really do understand the importance of better understanding just what it is Cloud and the rest of them are chasing. I'm curious myself why they took Aerith with them, not that the answer isn't already there. It would be convenient at the time I suppose, but where would they go with such urgency? What is it they know that Tseng is so eager to find out?

With a sigh of defeat, Tseng moves to gather his paperwork, but thinks better of it at the last moment. For a moment, he merely looks at me, as if about to say something. But again, he doesn't, and simply leaves my apartment at that stiff legged gait that's distinctive of a Turk with something on his mind.


	13. Loyalties and Alliances

**Lucky chapter thirteen. You can all thank Kiba for the motivation to get this far so quickly. :) Guess you guys are in luck this week as most of my attention seems to be on this particular fic, as the chapters just seem easier to write for a change. Things should be moving along at a better pace plot-wise now, as a lot happens in this chapter that I think ya'll will like. Enjoy folks. ;) **

**Chapter Thirteen -****Loyalties and Alliances**

Preventing an assassination in a place like Junon is a little bit like playing full contact chess, only with a better board and higher stakes. Instead of black and white tiles, I get the majestic rust corroded shipping crate-stacked apartment complexes with the occasional black-market weapon's shop tucked somewhere in an alleyway. Add in a couple of broken streets ravaged by the ocean winds and heavy equipment that rolls in and out of the harbor as part of Shinra's major military stronghold, and you have a minefield that intimidates any and all pieces that might dare take their chances on the board.

It is not the ideal place for a fox to wander when the demon hound herself reigns supreme over such territory with a pack of greater, if not downright threatening hounds of her own who prowl the boundaries in search of people like me.

My fingers drift over the numeric keys of the laptop, bringing up a grid of all of the city's surveillance cameras. There are more than five hundred angles to this city that I can play with until I get what I want from the board. All I have to do is get past the three thousand hounds who are currently sitting behind computer terminals around the world looking for any mistakes I might make to give away my presence. No problem.

Let's see. The only way into Junon is through the lift from the lower part of the city - Junon's equivalent of Midgar's slums only with better real estate. There's no way Cloud would go that way. Barret's not that stupid. But unless they think they can climb a high voltage electrical tower without some means of doing so aside from their hands…Hmmm.

Secure an area to work with first, the watchdog part of me reminds me of the job at hand. I can locate Cloud and the others later. They'd almost have to split up if they want to make it through security.

The lines flicker at the millions of transmissions coursing through the network each second. Orders. Millions of them. The common phrase as it appears in the corner of my screen being more about the arrival of the presidential helicopter than anything. Fantastic. Just when I thought I might actually have some time to stake out the best territory for observation.

A series of codes enter the database, bringing up two cameras from the first base level of Junon's main street. A second set at the bottom of my screen shows the makeshift gondola between levels that will lead to the naval ship that should carry him to Costa Del Sol. And just for the hell of it, I hijack one of the Shinra International News Network's camera four from the press box of the main apartment complex that covers the parade. A bird's eye view of everything I think I'll need to see.

The PHS buzzes, making me nearly jump out of my seat. I swear Tseng. This has better be -

_"Don't you go gettin' yourself killed Spike. This ain't no goddamn picnic. Got that?"_

Shit. I flip through the standard codes in search of the one I know I'm going to need in about thirty seconds.

_"You don't have to worry about me. I used to work for Shinra, remember?"_

Still as arrogant as usual. I jot down the coordinates while balancing upon the chair and trying to hold the PHS to my ear long enough to listen.

_"Used to work for Shinra. Well you're with AVALANCHE now. You screw this up and I'll personally drag your ass back from hell and kill ya again."_

There is strange comfort in hearing Barret scold the blond haired infantryman like he used to scold his regular crew. A part of me wishes I was there to see them again.

_"Alright you two." _Tifa, the voice of reason chimes in from somewhere in the background, the echo from some sort of tunnel audible across the line. They must be somewhere around the airbase. The choppers used to always screw with the frequency of PHS models

_"I was just filling Spike in on some last minute pointers before we go after this goddamn bastard."_

_"I'm sure he'll be fine. Right Cloud?"_

Somewhere, I imagine him nodding in agreement to her words, looking every bit as confident as I remember him. I just hope he keeps control of himself long enough to get through whatever mission they're trying to accomplish today. If Fort Condor is any indication of what his battle skills are like, then Tseng has every right to be terrified.

_"Pardon the disturbance, but how exactly am I supposed to board the freighter?"_ A voice I have never heard before chimes in, sounding slightly concerned over the issue. So they intend on sneaking aboard the freighter eh? This promises to be a joy to watch.

_"Don't worry Red. We'll help you. You can walk on your hind paws right?"_

_"On occasion Miss Aerith. But I am not built to maintain that kind of stance for very long. It hurts my hips."_

My fingers brush the mouse, nudging the keys with the pen until I scroll through the files to bring up a possible member to AVALANCHE's reborn group. Red. Let's see. Red, as in Red XIII? Hojo's specimen? I make note of the fire red lion-like creature on the screen as the chatter continues over the PHS.

_"We'll figure something out. Now let's go. We're going to be late!"_

_"Alright. None of you better get killed, 'cause I'm warning ya-"_

_"It'll be okay Barret,"_Tifa reassures him, no doubt in a hurry to get this show on the road. _"You just keep an eye on Cloud." _

_"I miss the days when I didn't have to babysit every member of my goddamn crew."_

_"We all do Barret. But think of it as an opportunity to change things for the better. The sooner we get Sephiroth, the sooner Shinra will pay for Sector Seven and every life lost."_

There is a distinct click, the line going dead. For a moment, I merely sit, and listen to silence, watching the cameras on screen and the blood red silken banners with the sickening Shinra logo plastered across them with Rufus's name under it flutter in the ocean breeze against a smoggy early evening sky. It's night here in Midgar. Cold, cruel, lonesome night.

The PHS shrills again and I press the button quickly, wanting to hear more of my old comrade's banters. Something about hearing them. It just makes this whole trip through the seven circles of hell worth it in a way.

"Are you into the system yet?" Damn. Trust Tseng to chime in to ruin a pleasant reflective moment. I sigh and minimize the profiles on what I know of AVALANCHE so far, leaving the live action camera shots up on screen.

"Yes Sir."

"Did anyone tail you yet?"

"No." And they won't either. I'm invisible until I choose to reveal myself, which if I can help it, will never happen. I'm the fox. I have no choice but to remain in hiding, watching, waiting for the information to come to me before moving on.

"Good. Have you heard anything from AVALANCHE?"

I hesitate at the piece of paper with the coordinates and snippets of conversation scrawled up it in shorthand only I can read. Harbor. They're going to the harbor for Costa Del Sol if they can make it. My fingers curl around the piece of paper, crumbling it into a ball.

"Not one word. They must be traveling as a group without need for the PHS lines." My heart nearly stops in my chest, praying he does not detect the faintest hint of doubt in my words. "If I hear anything, I'll be sure to update you right away."

"Good. I'll check in with you later Cissnei." The line goes dead and I collapse into the uncomfortable wooden chair, heart thundering in my chest and sweat beading my trembling palms.

Cissnei never would have been able to tell a flat out lie to Tseng without giving herself away in a split second. Tseng knows that part of me too well. But, Jessie can. Because Jessie is not one of the Turks' legendary pack of watchdogs. No. That part of me is the fox. Always was. And, for the first time in a long time, I do not regret one second of it.

I glance down at the piece of paper pressed against my hand. They're going to make it to the harbor. They have to make it to the harbor. I may not be able to travel with them, but that does not mean I am still not a part of AVALANCHE. It is my duty to ensure they get through security. And I'll be damned if the Turks get in my way.

The cameras buzz with the excited crowd peering down from their windows to see what all of the fuss is about.

He walks like a rump roast on legs, green uniform spotless and shoulders stiff in the unbefitting mockery to the position he is supposed to be in charge of. Heidegger, Scarlet's other half in the insane twisted being that makes up Weapons Research and the Department of Administrative Research. That man always bothered me for some reason. Guess I never could get used to his annoying horse laugh that rattled the halls at all hours and reminded us that he was Tseng's boss and had the power to get rid of any of us as he so saw fit.

I watch him vanish from the screen, selecting the main broadcasting camera for a bird's eye view as I type in a code that triggers an alarm somewhere downtown and drives a small portion of the infantrymen in waiting off to chase shadows. They want to play rough. Well. They don't know who they are messing with.

The polished Cadillac draws into view along with the droning commentary that I have put the volume on mute for such a purpose about. I watch body motions, not listen to words, once again pulling watchdog's privilege into play. I could have prevented Sector Five from going wrong had I just listened to my instincts. This time will be different.

He stands there, like a chiseled demon cloaked in white, waving his hand to the crowd with this ominous little smirk about him. It's like staring at the devil himself, blue eyes and vibrant blond hair streaked with a sense of darkness about him. The lines at the corner of his lips tell me that he is merely in this for show - that there is something on his mind greater than Midgar. The way his shifty eyes continue to scan the crowd in search of someone bothers me. He's not looking at the crowd, but through them.

He's not afraid of AVALANCHE. He never was. He's got something on them that trumps his father's method of crushing AVALANCHE the first time. Something that involved Sephiroth.

Something greater than Sector Seven. A shiver courses through my body at the mere thought. How many more people have to die before this blood drenched dynasty is brought down for good?

He set the whole damn thing up and he knows it.

The Cadillac rounds the street corner to continue on its way, but I make no move to change cameras. If I spend one more second watching his gestures and reading his evil intentions, I'm afraid I might just find a way to make good on the murder I'm guilty of, according to Shinra anyway.

Several squadrons of Shinra MPs march by, their rifles at their shoulders like the toy soldiers they represent. Murders. That's all they are. Murderers in stark blue uniforms. I have not forgotten what they did to Zack. What they tried to do to Cloud. I switch cameras to the one near the beginning of the parade route.

From the corner of the screen, I catch the briefest glimpse of the next to last squadron, four late members and a sergeant shuffling in through an alleyway at a hustling trot. Words are exchanged amongst them before the shorter MP on the right trots into an opening in the line, but thinks better of it and waits for a second squadron to pass.

There's something odd about that one. Like he doesn't belong in the Shinra Military. Hmmm. I watch him reattempt the join up once more, this time shuffling in between a pair of MPs and holding his rifle at the wrong angle.

Wait. Could it be? I switch cameras once more for a closer look. That uniform is a little small on him, exposing just enough of the back of his neck for me to see. Blond hair. Yeah. Definitely blond. I cannot help but raise an eyebrow at the distinct possibility of one very flustered, very out of practice Cloud Strife wandering amongst the Shinra ranks without so much as a second glance from anyone.

I have to give him credit, he's doing a hell of a job staying under cover.

Time to do a little bit of hopping along the game board. Erasing all but the few seconds before I chose to zip in to watch the festivities, I close two cameras and jump to the gondola on the other side of Junon, where Heidegger appears to be conducting some sort of amusing spectacle with his men while Rufus stands there and watches like an amused idiot. No doubt he's thinking about how to utilize them to his own personal benefit.

Wait? He's talking to Heidegger about something. From what I can make out, it looks like something about an airship of some sort. Highwind's airship by the sound of it. I wasn't even aware that foul mouthed captain of the flight crew was even still around with all the smoking he does let alone in shape to fly it. Distance. Something about distance.

Whatever Rufus is planning is big, really big. I draw a deep breath and watch him board the gondola, noting the banner with his name upon it and the symbolic "New Age" he is supposed to be bringing with him.

New age my ass.

I watch the gondola pull away, leaving the infantrymen discussing matters amongst themselves which I cannot really understand because of their masks. No doubt they're talking about their pitiful performance.

Gods this is stressful. One minute I have AVALANCHE in my sights, the next, they're gone. No words on the PHS either. Thank Holy for small miracles. The amount of tracks I'm trying cover right now is starting to drive me insane.

The PHS shrills yet again for the third time today, and this time I strongly consider throwing it out the window for the hell of it.

"How are things going Cissnei?" My honest opinion Tseng, absolutely fricking chaotic. I've got so many windows open on this poor laptop that the poor thing will probably suffer a complete system meltdown when I'm finished. AVALANCHE got through security without a hitch and is now at the docks with Rufus, if this camera is correct and I've not lost my mind. What I'm going to tell you though, is the complete opposite.

"Aside from watching a human jackass scold a group of underperforming infantryman and scurry off to be a footstool to the newly elected president, I'd say a typical boring evening."

"That's what I like to hear. We did not see anything either on our comb through of the area. I want to say they did not get through security, but the night is not over yet. Until Mr. Shinra is aboard his presidential freighter the threat still stands."

"I'll keep an eye out sir."

Partially because I want to know just where in the hell AVALANCHE ended up and partially because I already know. Tseng hangs up his end of the PHS after my confirmation and I switch to the docks where the infantrymen are performing their moves for Heidegger as a testimony that the military has not lost its edge.

I have to hand it to them, they're not too bad, for rookies. Everything appears to be in order, feet matched in perfect marching tempo to the captain's orders. Heidegger looks pleased with himself over the rookies. But, what is that thing in the corner of the freighter? I zoom the camera in a little bit, making out an eagle feather against red fur.

Red XIII. So. AVALANCHE did make the freighter after all. I smirk at the thought. I don't know how they managed to do this, but for once, I'm happy they did.

The infantrymen perform their final move, rifles moving in perfect rhythm.

That move. The way they swing their rifles in that spinning arc before resting them across their shoulders, the one on the far left placing his across his back. That was Zack's move.

Cloud…

Of all moves, it just had to be that one. For a moment, I close my eyes, trying to remove the image of the raven haired SOLDIER from my mind. Gods Cloud reminds me of him. Just the way he does things. It's frightening in a way.

The captain dismisses the group shortly after the demonstration and I cannot help but watch the infantryman in the far upper part of the screen slip into the darkness of the freighter's cargo area to be with Red XIII.

Tseng's going to murder me for this once he finds out what I've done to the security tapes of the area. As far as anyone is concerned, AVALANCHE was nowhere near Junon tonight.

I hack out of the network and close the laptop with a soft click, staring at the dark window. For the first time, I've no regrets for what I have done, for the fox does not regret evading the hounds.


	14. Walking the Fence

**The Muse doesn't have a rant this round. Enjoy folks! **

**Chapter Fourteen - Walking the Fence**

There comes a time when even the best gamblers need to decide whether or not to go all in or fold. A wiser individual in my shoes would have ducked out of the game well before it even started, as there are no winners at this table - only losers who do not know they have lost yet. Unfortunately, neither Cissnei, not Jessie for that matter happen to be very good at playing the game and used up all of their best cards a while ago, back when it all mattered.

It's more like walking on a pond of frozen ice now, waiting to fall through and drown. And the sickening thing is that I cannot swim if I do end up in the water. No one is going to jump in and save me this time. They never could. Like a fox walking the fence with sleeping hounds on either side of it. One wrong move and all hell breaks loose. But, it is a risk I need to take. I'll walk this damn fence until it kills me, because I'm not sure there are any others who can, or even how to go about getting off of it safely.

It's been four days since I last heard from Tseng. In the Turk pack, that is never a good thing because it usually translates to him having alerted the proper authorities outside of the standard pack and I'm wearing an invisible target on top of the one I already have.

Now all I can do is bide my time and wait for the repercussions of my most recent crime. But this time, I'm ready for him. I'll fight to the death to ensure that AVALANCHE survives every encounter they have against the Turks, even if it means sparring with the leader of the Turks. I have a right to defend them still.

The PHS rings and shatters the silence of the apartment. I retrieve it almost confidently, a part of me prepared for whatever lies in wait upon the other side. If I'm going to survive, then I'm going to have to stop being such a coward and actually fight some of my battles the way they should be fought - with honor and intelligence.

"I take it you already have an idea as to why I am calling you so late, so I'll get right to the point. I need to discuss something with you. It involves AVALANCHE and Strife."

Here we go. It's always the same argument with this guy. When will he learn that I am not a Turk anymore? I traded that life for Jessie's when Scarlet tried to kill me.

"Tseng. I'm not interested in talking about them. You know I have nothing to say."

Half expecting him to yell at me over the phone, I cower slightly against the wooden chair.

"I need to discuss this issue with you regardless of whether or not you are interested in dealing with me or not. It involves your current situation."

Tell me something I don't know. Right now I'm one plank between perdition and a fiery end, teetering above the jaws of demons just waiting to tear me apart when I fall. What possibly could make this any worse than it already is?

No. I don't want to know. I just do not want to know how it could get worse because it always can. It always will.

"Cissnei. Are you listening to me?"

"Yeah. I'm listening."

Whether or not I'm paying much attention though is a different story.

"Is something wrong? You seem a little more distant that usual."

"It's nothing Tseng." Aside from the fact that I'm going to have to explain just how they got through security and what role I might have played, not to mention the fact that I flat our lied to the leader of the Turks. Yeah. There's nothing going on. Nothing at all.

"I am going to be paying you a visit this morning, say sometime around six o'clock. This is a matter that I cannot discuss over the phone. I trust you'll be there."

"Yeah, I'll be here." It's not like I have any place else to run to. I mean really, even if I did manage to get out of this godforsaken city, where would I go? All I really have to my name are the clothes on my back, and even they are not mine. I don't even have enough bullets for that pistol to fend off the monsters of the wastelands I would encounter.

I've got to find a way out of this.

The better part of six hours later, there's a knock at my door and true to his word, as usual, there stands the source of my anxiety, this time looking a little more sober than he did last time he paid me a visit.

"Good morning Cissnei."

I regard him with my typical silence and merely take my seat at the table. It's not as though I don't know the drill. He's more than likely to rake me over the coals once again for what I did about Rufus's inauguration issues.

Only this time, I'm ready for him.

"I am not in the mood to talk Tseng." I reply, my back to him as we take a seat at the table. Today he's not dealing with Cissnei, but Jessie. And she is not in the mood to deal with the Turks and their sick, twisted senses of humor when it comes to survival and manipulation.

"I figured you wouldn't be." He sits across from me, once against studying me as though I am some sort of livestock he has made a wrong investment in somewhere along the line. I really hate that look. "I have information you will be interested in involving Strife and his band of rebels."

"I'm not interested." He knows I'm lying through my teeth about it. Hell. Any information I can get my hands on can only benefit the people in question who I am trying to protect in a battle I haven't yet realized I have lost.

"Sephiroth was aboard that freighter, as was AVALANCHE. You broke the rules Cissnei."

The fence seems to have come to an end a lot sooner than I could have imaged it might have, the hound perched right there in front of me, ready to knock me into the teeth below.

"They're stupid rules Tseng." I reply, still not budging from my stubborn pride as a former member of AVALANCHE. Foxes do not give up when cornered, and this is once again my territory and he is unwelcome.

A hand seizes the collar of the oversized shirt once belonging to Reno, drawing the fabric tight around my throat with a sharp jerk.

"Look at me when I am talking to you. You need to know this information if you want me to let you here still breathing in this world when I report to Rufus regarding the slip up in Junon. Heidegger wants heads for this one, and if this meeting does not go well, yours is going to be offered. Understood?"

The uncomfortable fabric wears against my flesh tighter, my hand grasping his wrist in an effort to convince him to release me.

"Do you understand me?"

I manage to nod, every muscle tense as he releases me and continues to glare with those dark obsidian eyes.

"I do not know what the hell happened to you all of a sudden, but when I give you an order, I expect you to follow it."

"If you knew what Shinra was planning, you would have let them go yourself," I snap, every card I have thrown down upon the table well before I would have liked. Tseng raises an eyebrow at my outburst and I drive my palms against the table, standing up and bristling with frustration.

"Cissnei." The warning falls upon deaf ears, the Turk I once was shining through. I'm done taking orders from this man against my will. I've had enough.

"No. For once, you shut up and listen to me Tseng. That conniving little liar in charge of this godforsaken city is pulling the wool over everyone's eyes damn it. He's planning something big Tseng. Really big."

I saw it in the way he looked at the crowd, as though they were insects beneath the soles of his shoes to be trod upon.

Tseng regards me with indifference, allowing me to continue snarling and growling at him.

"Before he boarded the gondola, he asked Heidegger about Highwind's ship being ready for distance flight. You and I both know that thing hasn't flown since the Shinra 26 Rocket Incident, back when it was a prototype."

His eyes blink, taking in the words with the seriousness of a watchdog who has just realized what he is talking to and the consequences.

"You said you wanted information Tseng. Well sometimes a 'fox' can see things that the hounds cannot. I think you need to take a second look at the man you are protecting before you come criticizing me about breaking some stupid damn rule."

I've definitely gotten his attention. He opens his mouth to say something, but I am quicker, pinning the hound in place with a look that says I am not going to let him escape the fight that easily.

"The world looks a whole hell of a lot different on this side of the fence. You need to get over your goddamn pride Tseng and take a second look at what's happening to Shinra. Everything that's happened over the past four years was no 'accident'. Sephiroth's resurrection could not be a coincidence. For Holy's sake, if that man knew Sephiroth and AVALANCHE was on board his freighter, then why did he let them go? He wasn't even _upset _that the old man was murdered, allowing him to step right in and take over the company while AVALANCHE got away. Hell I wouldn't be surprised if he set up every single one of the Turks."

Tseng ponders my words in a quiet moment, fingers drumming the table just to appear busy. He doesn't have an answer for me.

"Jumping to conclusions-"

"It could have been any one of us the day Zack was murdered. Reno and Rude, but they got me. Hell, all three of us could have been killed. The fact of the matter is Tseng, Scarlet _deliberately _fired upon us and caused that accident. Had it been only a few more seconds, both helicopters would have went down. But they didn't. She only took down one out of two. And then Sector Seven. If you knew AVALANCHE was hiding out there that often, then why in the hell did it have to be _that _night the pillar went down. And why Reno? You and I both know they could have sent anyone with a half decent security clearance on what was supposed to be a suicide mission. But they chose Reno."

"I've heard enough," he stands up, not willing to continue the fight. Holy be damned if he kills me or not for this. It needs to be said. If I fall off of the fence, then I'm going down fighting.

"You always told me that the only thing dangerous to a Turk was being isolated in the crosshairs of the enemy. Heidegger is _your _boss and Scarlet's right hand man. I'm not the one who is in danger Tseng, you are. He's setting you up. He's setting the entire department up. And once he gets the chance, he's going to isolate you and kill you. And with the Turks out of his way, he'll be able to do as he goddamn pleases. Sector Seven was only the beginning."

For a moment, he merely stares, breaking eye contact for a brief few seconds. It is more than enough to tell me that he is seriously thinking about what I have just told him.

"How confident are you on this?"

I watch him, every memory of seeing that damn smirk on Rufus's face surfacing in my memory.

"Confident enough to say that Rufus is letting AVALANCHE do the dirty work of finding Sephiroth for him. And once he finds out just what they are after, I get the feeling that things are going to change at Shinra, and not in a good way."


	15. Unsettling News

**Hey there folks. The string of updates continues with yet another chapter in the story. If all goes well you should be seeing updates on Sundays, Tuesdays, and Thursdays from now on. Enjoy. :) **

**Chapter Fifteen - Unsettling News**

In the days that follow my confrontation with Tseng, life at Shinra Inc. resumes this sort of nonchalant sense of disturbing normality. It's as if the AVALANCHE incident did not even occur at all, a 'cover up' if you wish to get technical about it. There is nothing about this on the wires. No mention is made through the email system.

Save one tiny oversight which I stumbled across early this morning while making my usual technological rounds in search of information.

It is a brief email, penned by Heidegger himself and sent directly from the corporate office he calls his own, to two recipients. Neither one of them is Tseng.

It's an unusual method of exchanging information for someone who spends most of his time with the first person listed as a recipient. Usually Scarlet and him exchange words and paperwork, never email. But it is the second person on the list that prompts me to pick up my PHS and dial Tseng's number.

"What's wrong?" He responses shortly after the phone line connects, slightly snippier than usual. I must have really said something that bugged him the other day. Not that I didn't expect him to be in a good mood to begin with. I had every right to say what I said. It's my job as both a Turk and an AVALANCHE member to keep everyone who needs to be informed, informed of the circumstances.

"I've got something you need to see to believe. I'm sending it to you now." I make a quick copy of the e-mail and forward it to Tseng, covering my footprints along the way.

"Are you certain this is legitimate Cissnei?" He replies some three minutes later. I skim the words again, trying to figure out just why Heidegger would be sending something like this out.

"I don't know sir, but I can confirm that Heidegger sent it earlier this morning. I thought Hojo was no longer working for Shinra."

"He's not," Tseng replies, no doubt engrossed in the same words I am reading over and over again. "He went missing a while ago."

Really? According to this, that bastardized excuse for a human being is still on the rampage, complete with under the table funding disguised as Weapons Research. I wonder what Scarlet is up to.

"Well, apparently he's not as 'missing' as you would like to think," I respond, scouring deeper into enemy territory in search of any other information that might have been exchanged between the two parties.

The shuffling of papers fills the air on the other side of the line. Must he always do that when I call him? It gets annoying.

"Cissnei," his voice cuts through the line in a commanding tone. "I need you to run a search on a couple of things for me."

Oh, so now I'm useful again. Wonder what he needs now. I grab a pen and scrap of paper.

"What do you need Tseng?"

"I need access to a specific set of encrypted files. They're rather old, back from the time when Hollander was is in charge and some even date back further to when Gast used to work for Shinra."

Gast? That is a long time ago, well before I even ended up being snatched by Shinra.

"Do you think you can get those for me?"

"Possibly." For the first time, it is not a smart ass remark meant to torment Tseng into an argument. Up until now, I wasn't even aware that there was a man known as Professor Gast who worked for Shinra at one point.

"You're probably going to have to use a satellite uplink to get the files, if they even still exist. Rumor has it that he had a laboratory in Modeoheim. Hojo did a nice number on destroying most of Gast's work though, so I don't expect you to be able to get much out of it."

"I'll give it my best shot. No promises though Tseng."

"I'll check in later today. I've got a meeting with Reeve in an hour that your technological assistance may be needed for."

What is it about men and computers that turns them into completely helpless life forms when they cross paths? I've never seen a man in the Shinra totem pole actually use one of these things with moderate success and the fact that Heidegger actually composed and sent an email on his own is disturbing.

"I'll see what I can do." I hang up the PHS and put on a kettle of water for tea. It's going to be a long day.

Two hours, twenty six minutes later, I've scaled fourteen firewalls, thirty six encrypted passwords, and a half dozen wannabe tech guys who 'make a living' doing this. Over fifteen hundred files on this Gast character have been categorized, though, there is not much left that doesn't have the markings of Hojo's grubby fingerprints in them.

Apparently Hollander was not the only person Hojo didn't coexist peacefully with. Gast simply hated the man.

And with good reason. Apparently Gast had one of the most elaborate research schemes on the Ancients to date, if any of these files hold even a shred of truth to them. I flick through more files, trying to find whatever it is Tseng might be interested in. All I'm finding is Centra stuff. Nothing immediately that explains much of anything.

There is a knock at the door that sends me into immediate flight mode, the laptop clicking shut defensively. The doorknob turns in its rattling prison and Tseng steps into my apartment, in a bit of a hurry.

"Everything you've found on Gast and Hojo, I need put on a disk." The silver CD lands in front of me before I can protest. I haven't even been able to cleave through half of this stuff yet and he expects me to just randomly pick the most important files and put them on a disk. We're not being demanding today, no.

"This Gast fellow was really into the Centra." I flip the laptop open and collect as many of the larger files as I possibly can for my former boss.

"Considering that most of Shinra's basis of understandings of Mako, its origins, what it is, and how it is used were based on what Gast used to do for a living, it would not surprise me."

Sounds pretty complex. Whatever Tseng is searching for on this probably has something to do with Sephiroth. It's not my place to ask though. I've got other things to worry about, such as keeping Cloud and the others out of the danger zone.

He hands me a second disk. I look it over out of curiosity and replace the one I've put the files on. Huh? Looks like I cannot overwrite it.

"Reeve sent this. He needs you to do some last minute programming."

I watch the computer recognize the disk as some sort of robotic artificial intelligence software. Reeve must have nothing else to do all day in that office of - I freeze and glare at my 'superior' officer.

"Reeve. You told Reeve about me?" This day is just getting better and better. Mr. Tuesti is one of the executives who if cornered by Scarlet would squeal like a wounded chocobo just to save his own head. The man's a blatant coward with too damn good of a heart for his own good. Not the type of guy who should know that the leader of the Turks is harboring a fugitive somewhere in a city he designed.

Tseng crosses his arms across his chest in an almost casual manner, as if he hasn't done anything wrong. No. Only jeopardized my entire survival plan.

"Mr. Tuesti only has a vague knowledge of where you might possibly be at the moment. Don't worry, I haven't told you anything specific yet."

"What do you mean haven't told him anything specific yet!" This is not looking good for me.

"Let's just say that Mr. Tuesti was not exactly keen on the destruction of Sector Seven before it occurred and was one of the few executives to voice his concern for the people below the plate. And right now, he is the only executive that can be trusted. I would not have told him about you if I knew he was allied against the Turks. Likewise, Mr. Tuesti would not still be alive."

I cannot help but shudder at the words. Reeve is the closest thing to a friend Tseng has ever had in Shinra, and the idea that he considered killing him is not sitting well in the back of my mind. But Tseng is a Turk, and that is what Turk's do. We kill people who are threats to us, even if we were once friends.

"What is this stuff?" I inquire, desperate to change the subject as the coding fills the screen in endless waves.

"It's called Cait Sith, one of Reeve's brainchild experimental projects that Shinra does not yet know he is capable of creating. The man is a brilliant engineer with the educational degrees to prove it, but his real talent lies with building completely self sufficient artificially intelligent beings. That's how he sees it anyway."

So he builds robots on his spare time. Somehow I'm not surprised. Okay. Whatever keeps him sane. I watch the codes continue to fill the screen.

"And you need me because?"

Tseng places a hand upon the table and leans over my shoulder, watching the screen.

"Reeve would have brought the disk here himself to show you, but I felt that he was needed in Shinra at the moment. He checked out your story about Heidegger and informed me that those two are working on something secretive. They asked him to dig up the old plans for the Sister Ray as well as the Highwind and various reactors he had a part in designing over the years, but wouldn't explain why they needed them. Call it curiosity at its best that he digs out Cait Sith to help us get the information lacking from the PHS."

I know he doesn't trust me, but outsourcing my job to a robot is downright disrespectful. Not that I did not have this coming to me, that inner watchdog reminds me. I was the one who pissed him off the other day.

"So," I dare to inquire against my better judgment. "What exactly is Cait Sith supposed to be?"

"To be honest, I have no idea. But Reeve guarantees that it will get us the information we need as it is happening from within AVALANCHE."

My fingers freeze atop the keys, every muscle tense at the words.

"Tseng. This is not fair. You're outsourcing my job to a robot!"

He regards me again in a casual manner.

"Well I can't send you back to AVALANCHE. You're dead. Remember?"

I curse under my breath at the words. Now he's using that against me. Damn him.

"Calm down. Cait Sith is not going to take away your assignment. If anything, it's going to make your job easier. Reeve wouldn't let you work on this project if he did not count on allowing you in on the plan."

"You do realize you're making another mistake, right? No one said I had to listen to you."

"I am more than aware Cissnei," he replies, that irritated edge in his voice as the inner watchdog tells me to watch my step. "But I think you'll learn to like this assignment in time."

Like hell I will. He doesn't trust me enough to track them so he sends a robot to do it for me. I'm supposed to just accept this?

"I don't like it one bit."

"Well you don't have much of a choice. With or without your help we are tasked with finding Strife and following that group until we find Sephiroth. You should be thankful I'm even giving you a second chance and trusting you as much as I am. I could have killed you're a dozen times over already. Reeve needed an experienced Turk he could count on to assist him in following AVALANCHE, and your name was the first one I offered."

"Well if this is Reeve's robot, then why do _I_ have to deal with it?" I never understood why the stupidest ideas always end up on my shoulders. Tseng takes a casual seat across from me, looking over the top of the laptop.

"Because the last thing Reeve wants to do is _help_ Shinra. He's still bitter about Sector Seven's incident, and he was in the boardroom when the decision was made. Right now he's only following orders because he has to in order to stay alive. I figured you two might make a good team for a mission of this caliber eventually. All we're doing for now is getting a good idea of where and how AVALANCHE is getting around and where they are going."

"And what then Tseng?" I cannot help but ask. "What happens when you do meet up with them? Are you going to try to kill them?"

"We'll deal with that when it happens. Until then, try to get along with Reeve."

Choosing to remain silent with only a brief nod of understanding, I sit down and begin trying to figure out just what it is that Reeve was having problems with.


	16. Cait Sith

**Alright, I'll be honest, this chapter is a little more driven as a sit back and watch the action instead of take part in it sort of chapter, which makes it rather boring. Here's to hoping my formatting comes through, or this chapter's going to be a real pain in the butt to read. Oh, and Kris, you don't need to apologize, as you didn't say anything wrong. Your last review for chapter 11 I agree with 100 percent. (I'd have personally written, but you're an anonymous reviewer so it doesn't give me that option.) Any advice, and this goes to all reviewers, who see something that can be fixed, worked on, made better, or your just don't like, by all means don't hesitate to say so. I won't bite you for being honest. :) There are a lot of chapters I've written that don't ever sound right in my head and by you guys pointing it out, it lets me know what I need to focus more on. You're always learning something new everyday as a writer, and even if you're still in school, your advice is equally taken into consideration as much as someone who has been doing this for years. It makes the fic a lot more fun to write and better for you all to read. Okay. Done ranting. Enjoy this chapter folks!**

**Chapter Sixteen - Cait Sith**

I have to give Reeve credit, he's a brilliant man to design such remarkable structures such as Midgar's entire city, various reactors, transportation and other Shinra playthings, but he's done a hell of a job with this one. It's like being dropped right in the middle of a chicken coop and no one to chase me away while I sit here and listen in while someone else does the work for a change. Only this chicken coop is the biggest financial waste of time, money, and resources on the planet - the Gold Saucer. And finding five or more people in a crowd of a thousand is not exactly easy.

Installing voice recognition software in whatever Cait Sith is supposed to be in hopes that it will hone in and follow a set target was quite possibly the most genius program Reeve has ever requested to have been programmed and used for surveillance. If Shinra knew this level of tracking was in existence, let along customized with any voice exchanged over a PHS or other wireless network, people like me might actually be in trouble.

Fortunately, as of this hour, Shinra is none the wiser about just what Cait Sith can do. Heck. I don't even know what its fully capable of aside from the brief stint of programming and coding I was forced to take part in. Whatever Reeve is doing is strictly between Reeve and Tseng. I get to sit this one out and watch.

"_Do you think it's a good idea to let him alone like that?" _Cloud says, concern in his usual arrogant tone. Uh oh. Something must have happened.

"_You know Barret," _Tifa replies, down heartened. _"He just needs his space. He'll cool down in a little bit."_

"_Still. He doesn't seem himself." _

"_It happens Cloud. Shinra's done a lot of horrible things to him. You cannot expect him to take being here well."_

"_So, Corel ended up like Nibelheim? Burned to the ground by Shinra."_

"_Apparently. Barret never said anything about it. But that's why we have to find Sephiroth. We need to stop Shinra from destroying any more lives for this senseless quest for power."_

"_I just hope he doesn't do anything stupid. His temper gets the best of him most of the time."_

"_He won't Cloud," _Tifa assures him. _"I'm going to go get Red XIII. Letting a wild, talking animal roam around without a leash is probably not a good idea."_

"_He's an intellectual," _Aerith chirps, oddly happy given the circumstances. "_He knows better. He was good in Costa Del Sol."_

"_In this day and age, we cannot chance him getting lost in such a crowded place. Besides, what it people from Shinra are around here?"_

If only you knew how close you guys are being followed. I bring up my map of the Golden Saucer, pinpointing Reeve's robot and mapping it for future reference. Any second now they're going to encounter it. I hope Reeve and Tseng know what they're getting into.

"_Hey you! What are you looking so down for?"_

He gave it a Scottish accent? I kinda sorta want to see just what this thing looks like now.

There is an abrupt scuffling of feet to a surprised halt.

"_Cloud?" _Aerith inquires, somewhat curious. _"What is that thing?" _

"_I don't know. Just pretend it doesn't exist."_

I cannot help but stifle a bit of a laugh at whatever Reeve created. Cloud sounds absolutely spooked.

"_How about it? Want me to read your fortune?" _It practically begs in the annoying hyperactive Scottish accent. _"A brighter future! A happy future!"_

A fortune teller? The best he could come up with is a robotic fortune teller?

"_What do you think Cloud?"_

"_I don't know Aerith. I've never seen anything like this before."_

"_Oh come on. It'll be fun."_

"_Yes! Yes! Fortunes for everyone! But don't blame me if it's not a great prediction!"_

"_Come on Aerith," _Cloud urges her to where I assume and hope is away from the impending disaster known as Cait Sith. "_I don't trust it."_

"_Now what's the matter blond boy? Name's Cait Sith." _I sincerely hope that this is that artificial intelligence program portion talking and not Reeve putting words in its mouth. If that is Reeve, then he really does have a whole other side none of us know about.

_"You can only read the future?"_ Cloud responds, obviously not sold on the idea of a fortune telling robot.

"_You kidding? I can find missing things, missing people. Anything!" _

Correction. The Turks usually outsource that stuff to me. The last thing Reeve's finding is something lost. I take a sip of my tea and await the results.

"_Then can you tell me where a man named Sephiroth is?" _

"Did you catch that Cissnei?" Tseng's voice echoes over the PHS. I double check the conversation recording on my laptop with a habitual nod I know he cannot see.

"Yep. Good luck getting out of this one though."

"Reeve can handle it. It's got an auto response that should keep them busy for a while."

"Cloud's not an idiot Tseng."

"_You're lucky color is blue? Forget it. Aerith. Let's go." _Sounds like Cait Sith is not getting along terribly well with our favorite former infantryman. I smirk at the idea. You just can't substitute a human conversation with a robot and get the results you want.

As usual, Reeve tries again. This has got to be frustrating for him.

"_What you will pursue will be yours, but you will lose something dear." _

Something about the phrase sparks a deep sense of concern deep within the back of my mind.

"Tseng?" I inquire, hoping he's still hanging around the engineer who supposedly wrote the fortunes being drawn at random.

"Yes Cissnei?"

"That fortune Cait Sith just rattled off-"

"Is not in the book. Reeve's looking into it. You get on it too. See if anyone's hacked the lines."

"Yes sir." I immediately begin prowling through the database in search of 'other' listeners. I read over those fortunes myself and did not recall seeing it in the initial programming stages I patched up. Unless someone planted it there, it's damn near impossible that it could have been generated.

Reeve continues trying to salvage the major security screw up while I run through the lines once again. Nothing.

"Anything?"

"Nothing." I reply, somewhat spooked by the phrase. I don't know why that bothers me so much. But every single one of us listening knows it cannot be a good thing. "Tell Reeve to cover his trail somehow. I'll take care of the tech lines."

"_Well, shall we?" _The robot continues as if nothing happened.

"_What are you talking about?" _Aerith replies, an edge of concern in her words. Apparently I'm not the only one concerned about this phrase.

The line clicks, Reeve seizing control over the robot.

"_Go with you of course! If I don't find out for myself what a fortune like that means, then I cannot relax and entertain others in need of my future telling abilities."_

"_What are we going to do Cloud?" _

"_Leave it in a scrap heap in a minute. I don't like this one bit Aerith."_

"_Well," _the Scottish accent takes on a stubborn tone. Yeah, that's Reeve talking alright. "_I'm coming with you no matter what you say!" _

This is their big plan? Bully there way into AVALANCHE and hope for the best? Forget making my job easier. This just got a hell of a lot harder.

"Tseng-"

"I don't want to hear it Cissnei. It's a solid plan."

Until Cloud buries the Buster Sword into Cait Sith and leaves him in a scrap heap. I sigh and finish connecting the virtual lines until everything is in place. So long as Cait Sith is running with Cloud and the others, we'll have information, but as to how accurate that is, only Holy knows.

For the next two hours, all I hear over the lines are the sounds of the Gold Saucer and people having a lackluster decent time. Personally, I was never very fond of the place. Too noisy and too many people. And if you could get over the bright lights and flashy effects, all you were left with were the standard makings of a wannabe amusement park run by an overly egotistical man named Dio.

Not that winning a small fortune on under the table chocobo betting was not amusing to say the least. Had it actually taken off, Corneo might have been in trouble with his own betting rings. But watching Reno curse and swear at his bird of choice was probably the funniest thing I've ever witnessed in a public setting. And seeing Rude chicken out of the roller coaster ride is an event you almost need to be on vacation to see.

Chocobos aside though, the only other thing worth visiting if you happen to be a Turk though is the Battle Area. Forget company vacation. Shinra always sent us there to hone our skills and amuse Dio with our own specialties. Sort of an 'evaluation' to say the least.

And, if my suspicions are correct, that's exactly where Barret would have wandered off to.

There is a gunshot fired at close range and I leap from my seat in panic. Shit. I reach for the pistol and look towards the door out of habit.

"Tseng!"

"I heard it Cissnei. Check the surrounding area. Stay away from the door just in case."

"Right." I set the PHS down and move behind the table, pistol at the ready. Any of those Shinra bastards come breaking through that door they're going to be facing a Turk's aim with a terrorist's attitude.

"Wait! Wait!" Reeve shouts across the wires. "That wasn't in Midgar!"

"What do you mean that wasn't in Midgar?" Tseng swears in frustration. "Sounded like it was."

There is a crackling sound on the line.

"No. Battle Square. The Gold Saucer."

"Cissnei. Get me a surveillance image of the Battle Square immediately."

Nerves on edge, I pick across the keyboard with trembling fingers, the pistol within easy range should Tseng be wrong about that gunshot. Holy that sounded close.

The image loads automatically. Gods. I think I'm going to be sick.

Blood. So much blood. It paints the once black and white tiles in splashes of crimson. Bodies lay scattered, some draped over the registration desks in a grisly sight.

Get over it, that little voice takes charge, the shock fading to a manageable level. You have a job to do.

I forward the images to Tseng and for a while, there is silence on the line.

Infantrymen. What in the hell are infantrymen doing in the Gold Saucer? My eyes narrow as Cloud and the others appear on the screen, their horrified expressions telling me all I need to know.

"_Hurry and run!" _The black and white tabby cat I assume to be Cait Sith bounds for the stairs leading to the arena.

Wait. No. What in the hell is going on here? I stand up, watching in horror as Dio gives the command to apprehend them and the robot guards appear on screen, obscuring my view.

And just like that, the screen is empty.

"Damn it," Reeve swears over the line, the sound of what appears to be a fist striking something hard soon following. "I've lost the connection. It'll have to operate on auto until I can figure out just what in the hell happened."

"Where exactly does that hole go?" I dare to inquire, still watching the screen as Dio addresses his guards and walks away as if nothing happened.

"Corel Desert Prison."

Son of a bitch. Not only have we managed to lose them, but getting them back is going to be damn near impossible.


	17. An Unexpected Visitor

**Hey there folks! May I present to you another update for your reading pleasure. This one is a bit lengthy, but hopefully you'll all enjoy it. Just a heads up, once enjoy the updates while they last, the Muse was informed yesterday that she is going to be a busy little bee in March, so the updates will get slower again. That doesn't mean February will slow up though. ;) **

**Chapter Seventeen - An Unexpected Visitor**

In the days that follow the unexpected imprisonment of Cloud and the remainder of AVALANCHE, along with Reeve's brainchild of a robot, every and any trail I once had has virtually and literally dried up. No contacts on the PHS. No messages exchanged. No transmissions from Cait Sith to Reeve. Whatever hellish sort of prison the Corel Desert Prison is, is the brutal mother of all dead zones.

"I wouldn't beat yourself up about it too much. It's not like we don't know where they are at least."

"If you intend on lounging on my couch Reno then at least make yourself useful by not interfering with my work," I warn, not in the mood for his antics today. If I had it my way, he wouldn't even be here right now. But, like most Turks who have to drop by in a 'check in' mission disguised as a casual visit, he is none too quiet about announcing his presence.

"Someone's not in a good mood today."

"Reno," I turn away from the monitor to face him. "Much as I appreciate you stopping by, it is not a good time. I've got fugitives to track."

"I thought you were done being a Turk."

"I am." I strike the keys a little harsher than I intend, the screen flickering in warning. Personally, with all of the abuse this piece of technology has been under over the past few days, I'm surprised it still works at all. "I'm just 'volunteering' my expertise on AVALANCHE until I can get the hell out of here."

"Volunteering, nice."

"Seriously. If you have no business aside from stopping in to baby-sit me, then you had better go."

"Good for you then. I'm not here on a casual visit."

He flicks a folded piece of paper at the table and misses. It lands with a soft skid across the floor.

"Tseng sent me. He said he had a message he couldn't deliver by phone or in person."

I retrieve the piece of paper and unfold it. Looks like a series of numbers. Coordinates maybe? I give Reno a look of puzzlement before returning to the piece of paper in search of a hint.

Written, in tiny Wutainese letters along the bottom of the page, is a simple order - He's being watched, and to contact Reeve regarding AVALANCHE until further notice.

Being watched. The phrase sparks something deep within that prompts the watchdog into warning mode. If Tseng's being watched, then there is a slight chance that everything I saw at Junon could very well be the tip of the iceberg we cannot afford to encounter right now.

Although Jessie's not happy about it, I'm stuck being a Turk for a while longer yet. At least until this all blows over.

"You might end up running a lot sooner than you think 'Nei."

"Reno-"

He drapes an arm over the back of the couch in an effort to appear casual. His gesture says he's not worried. His eyes tell me he's scared to death.

"Something big's going on at Corporate. I don't know what it is, but it involves the reactors. Heidegger's been lurking around with his hands around the leashes since Rufus became the official president and in less than twenty four hours, we're being shipped to Gongaga."

Gongaga. They're going to Gongaga. But the only thing there is - I tense at the blinding memory of my own experiences in that out of the ways backwater town where I encountered a hero trying to save himself and his friend. Reno regards me out of pity.

"I'm sorry 'Nei. I didn't mean to-"

"It's nothing," I reply, trying to prevent the memory from getting the best of me. "Watch out for the mosquitoes. In Gongaga. It's hot. And there are mosquitoes."

He knows I'm trying my best to work through this obstacle I never expected to be thrown back at me today. I just never thought it would hurt this bad. A memory can't hurt. Right?

"Mosquitoes," Reno muses, trying to cover up his mistake of mentioning the place. "I'll remember that 'Nei."

Something about going to Gongaga tugs at my soul. He knows something he's not telling me.

"What are you being sent to Gongaga for?" I have to know what he's keeping from me. He removes himself from the couch and retrieves a chair, drawing it closer.

"Turk stuff." I do not need to be told twice just what that means. I've done more than my own fair share of these sort of missions myself. The only problem is that someone usually dies.

"Reno, please don't go." A part of me instinctively wants to find some way to prevent the impending tragedy that is going to unfold. To prevent him from making a stupid mistake, even though he is my enemy.

"I gotta go 'Nei," he replies, too casually for my liking. "Orders from the boss ya know."

"It's AVALANCHE, isn't it?" I softly whisper, not meeting his eyes. Even if they did manage to get out of the Desert Prison, it would only be a matter of time before the Turks try their hand at corralling the fugitives themselves. But they have no idea just what they are up against. No idea whatsoever.

"Meh," he shrugs, green eyes harboring no sense of worry over this. "It's hard to say. The orders just said we were investigating a reactor core. Well, Tseng was. We're just along for 'protection."

Protection? They must be lookin for something big, with an executive to have to bring 'protection' such as someone like Reno. I inwardly shiver at the thought. He is my enemy. I should not even care what befalls him. If anything, I should be wishing for him to hurry up and get killed so I can get the hell out of here without any witnesses.

But I just cannot do it. Neither Cissnei, nor Jessie would wish something like that to befall him, no matter what side he is on. I'm just not like that. I cannot let him get killed. He's the closest thing to a real friend I've ever had. I owe him that much to try to keep him safe.

"Reno, you're making a big mistake. If AVALANCHE shows up-"

"Hey, don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Rude's gonna be with me yo. And Tseng and Elena will be close by if things go sour."

I gesture to the laptop out of frustration. He has no idea what these people are capable of. If Cloud has even a fraction of the bloodlust he had back at Sector Five, he'll kill any Turk he encounters. And if Barret and Tifa are with him, no one is walking away alive. He understimates these people.

"Don't take them lightly," I warn, still not meeting his gaze. "They completely decimated an entire brigade of infantrymen at Fort Condor. Killed every single one of them. These people are strong, dangerous Reno."

"I'll be alright," he assures me. "I promise. It's not like I haven't encountered them before."

A bitter twinge grasps at my soul.

"They have a bigger group now. There's no telling what they're capable of."

He places a hand upon my shoulder, that irritating sense of arrogance in his eyes. He's confident that he won't die. I wish I had that same confidence.

"I promise I will not get killed. The odd's are in favor that they won't show up in Gongaga. We won't know until Reeve gets that thing of his back online if they made it out of the desert. If it looks bad, we'll get the hell out of there. I promise."

I wish you were telling me the truth Reno. Please don't die. Please don't let AVALANCHE encounter them.

Some time later, Reno leaves to attend to his other mission, leaving me alone once again in this lightless place I've come to call home. The laptop clicks as I turn it off against my better judgment. I don't feel much like chasing shadows today.

Gathering Reno's spare blaze and leaving it unbuttoned, I pad across the apartment in search of my shoes. I'm tired of being kept in the shadows all of the time. It's not fair that he gets to come and go as he pleases. Grasping the doorknob with a deep breath, I pry the door open just a crack. The hallway looms like a dark tunnel, not one shred of light pouring in through the cracked windows at the end of the hallway. Even better. It's night. I grab the PHS for security purposes only, flipping it into silent mode.

This is not a good idea. But I'll be damned if the inner watchdog tells me otherwise.

The fourth floor hallway is quiet for it being so late at night. Night, day, there is no difference when you're a criminal. It could be brighter than Costa Del Sol and I would still be lurking in the shadows. It's just not right.

I pick my way up the rickety staircase, passing the worn doors and the apartment where I often hear the 'newlyweds' engaging in their nighttime activities. Tonight is no exception. Gods I want out of this place in the worst way.

A part of me wants to run back to my apartment and forget about this whole idea. But, Jessie continues to prod me along, her own longing for freedom mixed with Cissnei's instinctive alertness. Things are changing. I can feel it. Somewhere. Something is being drawn through the air like an invisible thread. Like a noose around this world's neck with Shinra holding the other end.

I reach the roof under cover of night, the frigid winter air brushing my skin and brief wind whistling through the buildings. It's late. I step out into the open, keeping certain of my path. The last thing I need is to be caught in the crosshairs of a sniper out on a late night shift tonight.

After five minutes of standard investigating of the small rooftop area concealed from the world by the two taller buildings fencing it in and the rows of stagnant buildings crowded onto the plate for miles, I take a seat upon the ash and snow covered ledge. It's peaceful in the city that never sleeps. So incredibly peaceful up here, away from the world, looking down at the distant cars rounding intersections en route to their home.

There are no stars tonight. Not that I expected them too. The stars fell from the sky the day the plate fell. I watched it happen. Now all that looms up there is an impenetrable veil of eternal clouds, swirling, jostling for control over the city against the mighty slate and eerie greenish building protruding from the center of this messed up down.

Look at it standing there like a false god to the people of this city. Mocking the heavens with its presence and lingering under the cloak of ash and fire. Should have gone for that reactor instead of the others. Could have brought the whole damn place down.

But we didn't. Seventy something floors of hell that building is. Seventy something floors that are escapable. I'm living proof of that.

"You come up here often?"

I jump in surprise, reaching around for the pistol tucked in the front pocket. In less time than it takes a sniper to load a rifle, I have the gun aimed and ready to pull the trigger at the newcomer to the rooftop.

"Whoa," the engineer holds his hands up to show he is not armed, his dark blue suit making him blend into the surrounding shadow of the hallway entrance. "Calm down. I'm not here to hurt you."

"What do you want?" My eyes narrow in warning, something about the gesture making Reeve draw a sharp breath and take a step in reverse. Forget Jessie. This is Cissnei's problem tonight, and sneaking up on a Turk is not a good way to live to see morning.

"I was just curious as to where you might have gone." He continues to hold his hands up, the first traces of sweat upon his forehead. He's nervous. I can hear it in his breathing. He doesn't know whether or not to run and take his chances or simply wait for me to make that first move for him. "I didn't see you in the apartment."

"Go away." The command is simple. Tonight I do not want to have to shoot him for invading my territory.

"Alright. I'll let you alone. Just put the gun down." I continue to watch him, barrel aimed at him. A part of me wants to drop this weapon and flee, but that urge to survive is also strong. I am fully aware that Reeve carries his own pistol, and although his aim is not half as good as Tseng's, I do not want to get hurt.

"Why did you come up here?" I take a step closer in warning. Forget walking the fence tonight. I've ended up on the ground with the hounds.

"I wanted to talk to you about AVALANCHE."

"I've got nothing to say to you."

"Tseng wasn't lying when he said I would find you like this," his voice softens slightly, as though he actually gives a damn. His hazel eyes meet my amber ones, looking at something I have yet to figure out. "What did that madman do to you Cissnei?"

"Enough," I reply, the bitter edge in my voice more than enough to make him rethink taking that step he was thinking about taking closer. The last person I want to talk about is that bastardized scientist.

"Okay. We don't have to talk about what happened. Tseng said you don't talk about it and I am not going to make you. I just want to have a civil conversation, preferably without a gun pointed at me, and then I'll leave."

I lower the weapon a quarter of an inch, just enough to show that I heard what he said. I'm still not sold that he did not bring the entire Shinra Infantry with him on his trek across town to my apartment. Even though I've always known him to be a good guy, generally nonviolent in nature, I can't afford to just accept him onto this side of the fence. Talking over the phone is one thing. Meeting in person is a whole other ballpark.

"Why don't we go back inside. It's cold out here tonight."

More tired than I want to admit, I return the pistol to the pocket of the blazer and allow myself to be lead back into the sparse warmth of the building. He's not going to hurt me. I can tell by the way he moves. If he was lying, I probably would have went ahead and shot him. Not because I would have wanted to, but because he would have been intending on killing me. And all threats have to be removed.

"Tseng's worried about you," Reeve sets a cup of tea onto the table less than fifteen minutes later and takes a seat across from me. "He's afraid he's going to push you so far away that you won't talk to him at all. That you'll learn to hate him."

If only you knew that I jumped off that ledge a long time ago. Not by choice. It's just easier this way. He's doing his job, and I respect that. Hatred has no part of this.

"I know he doesn't often show it, but he really does care about you. He doesn't want this situation any more than-"

"Reeve. This conversation always ends in an futile shouting match in which Tseng storms out of the room and I end up spending most of my night wondering just why in the hell I'm still in Midgar. Usually, I'm the one who drives him away. I do care about the man, and I'm grateful for everything. But I'm just not ready to talk about it yet. A lot of things have changed, one of them being that whereas Tseng was once a comrade, he's now very capable of murdering me the moment I let my guard down."

"Alright. We don't have to talk about Tseng either. But I will tell you that he's seen a change in you since Mr. Fair was murdered."

Again, very dangerous territory buddy. You do not want to even think about touching that memory.

"It's a good change," he tries to assure me, realizing that he's once again tread on my proverbial tail with less than enthusiastic results. "He was saying the other day that he's actually seeing someone he's never seen before. Someone who actually has a purpose for once. Ending up in AVALANCHE was probably the best damned thing to happen to you."

"It was the worst damn thing to ever happen to me," I defend, the tea less appetizing than it usually is. Having tea with a potential enemy is not how I intended on spending my evening.

"You don't mean that and you know it."

For once, he's right. I don't regret my time spent with AVALANCHE. I don't regret my time spent with the Turks either. It's kind of a crossroads that I'm not sure how to navigate.

"I think that's why you stayed isn't it. You're afraid to not be a Turk because it's all you've ever known." He flinches, choosing his words carefully. Tseng must have put him up to this. Holy knows he would never dare to have a conversation like this with me. Might as well send the psychiatrist wannabe to do the job for him. "When you got away from Shinra, you found a purpose that did not involve following a strict code of orders and a uniform."

"I adapted to the circumstances Reeve. Just as I told Tseng. It was an accident. Now if you have nothing else to discuss with me, I would really just like to be alone."

"Actually, I'm not here to criticize your involvement with AVALANCHE. I'm here to ask for your help. There is a lot of uncertainty regarding several of the executives in the inner circle, and as you know, I pass most of my information to Tseng."

Yeah. I am more than aware that you're the plant in the inner circle. I haven't been away from Shinra that long.

"I managed to get Cait Sith's transmitter back online. Apparently, Cloud and his group have escaped from Corel Prison and have gotten hold of a buggy to cross the desert. I thought you might be interested."

"Tseng sent you. Reno dropped off the message a few hours ago."

Reeve sips his tea, somewhat surprised.

"Just because I live in a ten by thirteen foot box with furniture in it does not mean I am not well informed Mr. Tuesti."

"Well, it's good to see some things have not changed. Yes. He sent me to discus Cait Sith with you. The program is working like a dream, but I need your help keeping it a secret. I want you to delete the data on Strife and his crew. Scarlet's sniffing around the Turks in search of any careless information and if she finds them, I cannot guarantee their safety. And if she finds out about them, she'll trace it back to you."

I just cannot get away from that woman can I?

"But what about you? Won't they kill you if they find out?" If Scarlet tortures regular criminals on a daily basis, then I can only imagine what she would do to someone like Reeve and eventually Tseng.

"Let's hope it doesn't come to that."

"I'll cover the tracks." I assure him, not meeting his eyes. I don't have much of a choice. It's up to the fox to be the scapegoat when the hounds have tangled with another pack of bigger, meaner hounds.

"I look forward to working with you then." He moves towards the doorway.

"Mr. Tuesti. May I ask you a question about Cait Sith?" Curiosity gets the best of me after what I saw in the surveillance video.

"Sure. What would you like to know?" Just by the way he says it there is a sense of pride at being asked about it.

"Why a Scottish cat?"

The engineer smiles briefly and pauses in the doorway.

"I used to have a black and white cat when I was at the academy. Rascally little devil he was. Had to give the poor devil away though when I took the job at Shinra. The Scottish thing, well, I'll tell you when we're on more even grounds."

Figures. I'm a fox in a hound's world and I'm going to be working with a cat person.


	18. Two Sides of the Same Coin

**This chapter's sort of short this time folks. Partially because the Muse spent most of the past two weeks in the hospital and is now trying to recover from it. So, if you don't see any updates for a while, that's the reason why. Anyway folks. Enjoy this quick chapter and I promise the action will pick up soon. It's just a matter of me getting around to writing it.**

**Chapter Eighteen - Two Sides of the Same Coin**

Somewhere in Midgar, under cover of the eternal clouds blanketing the skies above the upper plates, there is a dogfight taking place. It is not the normal, run of the mill quarrel consisting of mere teeth snapping and a lot of circling and growling. This one is serious, and the two beings involved are two that never should have crossed under these circumstances to begin with.

I should have done something to stop it, to sabotage every part of this plan from point one. It's not like I did not have the materials right in front of me. In a matter of seconds I could have changed things. Hell. I could have brought down the entire building's network and corrupted any and all data bases for years to come. I could have ruined Shinra.

But, the Turk in me prevented any action from taking place. I simply sat there, frozen in a memory, an elapsed moment of time that replayed over and over again. In those moments, I could do nothing as the lines erupted in banter back and forth between them.

I could only sit there and tremble at the carnage I heard over those wires. Gunshots fired at random, a scream of pain as a blade cleaved downwards. There are insults and curses exchanged that replay through my mind to match the faces whom they belong to. The snap of the EMR blitzing through the air to collide against rigid steel. The strike of the body hitting the hard earth and not getting back up.

Tonight, Cissnei weeps for Reno. Jessie cheers for Cloud. Two completely different entities that are split over the outcome of the battle that has taken place.

Reeve had instructed AVALANCHE to take the upper path through Gongaga's surrounding forests, not far from the swamp I ran through months ago after meeting up with Zack and letting him go the second time. Tseng had sent Reno, Rude, and that newbie, Elena, along the southern path. And without a descent amount of warning, they had surprised one another in broad daylight.

It's quiet out here tonight - and cold. I hug my knees to my chest in an effort to ward off the chill, my back against the wall overlooking the southern half of the building.

I had slammed the laptop shut and switched the PHS off before the conflict ended, and fled. I can't keep doing this. I have to get out of this place. I have to.

Madness. The gunshots continue to echo in my mind, each exploding through the air dangerously close as if I'm in the middle of the battlefield, unable to move or see my opponent. I cower deeper against the frigid wall, muscles quivering in raw terror. I'm scared. Death has returned to this place. He's here. He's there in Gongaga.

The tears scald as they escape the impenetrable dam. I shouldn't have left him go.

"Please don't die," I whisper, my inner watchdog spooked beyond her own understanding. I don't know why I'm so scared. "Don't you die Reno."

AVALANCHE and Turks. I didn't want either of them to die tonight. They're comrades. Both sides in the shade of gray. Even though they're Turks, they are still a part of Cissnei's past. AVALANCHE has no right to take them away.

And the Turks have no right to take Cloud away. Two sides of the same coin that will never see each other's sides of the story in complete understanding. Cissnei wants to save a part of Shinra. She's strong, a decorated warrior. Jessie wants it all destroyed. She's tough, a survivor. One wants to be free. The other already is.

And tonight, there is no compromise between the two.

Footsteps grace the ashy surface of the roof from the stairs, but I make no move to reach for the pistol. Instead, I continue to stare at the skyline of eternal darkness.

"I thought I'd find you up here."

Great. Just what I need, someone who does not understand at all what hell I'm going through.

He sits down beside me, merely looking out over the city. For a moment, it is quiet in the city. Too quiet for my liking, but not unwelcoming by any means. It's like this place knows every ounce of the soul's grief, and responds accordingly.

"I don't blame you for running away like that. The battle got pretty heated towards the end." His words are forgiving, understanding to a certain extent.

I did not run because I'm a coward. I ran because I did not want to know.

"Tseng said it was bad," I answer, not bothering to look at the engineer. "Reno's in the hospital. Rude got away with a few scratches."

"AVALANCHE escaped without injury," he fills in the blanks and I can only close my eyes at the outcome. I should be happy for them, shouldn't I? They got away. They'll live to fight another day, to chase phantoms across continents in search of something that is unknown. This is what I wanted. I wanted them to be okay.

But a distant, darker part of me wanted the Turks to win that battle. Because it they won, there would be no more need to lurk in the shadows in pursuit of them, deceiving them at every corner and hoping for an opportunity to contain them long enough for an answer.

Reeve shifts nervously, still looking out over the city. Without making eye contact, he reaches into the pocket of his jacket and withdraws a small silver CD.

"Tseng requested this be forwarded to you. If Scarlet knew I had this, it would be an immediate execution of treason. I figured you might be able to use it."

"I'm sorry Reeve, but I'm not interested in working for Shinra anymore. I don't want to do this anymore."

He sighs and holds the CD in his hands as though it is something he's not sure he should have even tried to part with.

"They're fighting for a noble cause, that group of yours. Hell, I would have joined myself if I had the chance. Some of the stuff they talk about half the time is rather interesting. Things I never would have thought of. You know. Midgar wasn't always like this. It used to be a group of pleasant towns. But now look at it." He points to the skyline rimmed in eerie mako tinged clouds. "I used to live somewhere over there. A small little farm actually. But well, there was not much money in farming the land. They built the academy and I fell in love with drawing and numbers. I never imagined it would turn out like this."

"You must hate me then," I whisper. "For what I helped do to your city."

He raises an eyebrow and looks at me.

"When the Northern Reactor went up in flames, I cannot say I was in the best of moods. AVALANCHE has tried things like that before, but never successfully. The fact that it happened was unsettling. Tseng about had a fit because the first place Scarlet went was after him. But I'm not here to discuss what happened to the reactors. I'm here to tell you what happened after."

What happened after. Do I really need to hear this? It's over. Done with. I don't really need to be kicked about it again and again.

"Reeve-"

"I don't often say this, but in a way, I'm actually happy that those two reactors are beyond repair at the moment. You really need to look at this disk. It explains everything better than I can at the moment."

Against my better judgment, I accept the disk from him. Whatever it contains could mean a way out of this hell I've entrenched myself in.


	19. A Stone Throw Away

**The Muse can't think of a half decent rant this round, so enjoy this quick update. :)**

**Chapter Nineteen - A Stone Throw Away**

Reeve wasn't lying when he said the information contained on this simple disk could grant him an immediate execution under charges of treason to the self-proclaimed Shinra Empire. This information is the rock to bring down the otherwise glass empire - and he put the weapon of choice in my hands to do as I see fit.

I scroll over the endless files obtained from Scarlet's own desk, each word, every letter bringing forth a wave of priceless information that people would kill each other to have under current circumstances. One word in particular stands out of all of them - Huge Materia.

Something about the phrase sends a cold shiver down my spine. Huge Materia, a materia roughly several thousand times more powerful than normal materia, something only available through the core of a functioning reactor. Scarlet is seeking it. Her motives unknown, but it doesn't take much to understand just what she is up to. With a weapon like this AVALANCHE wouldn't stand a fraction of a chance in their fight against Shinra. Hell, not much could stand in her way to total annihilation of civilization.

The PHS shrills against the otherwise stoic tap of fingers against rigid plastic keys. For a moment, I consider not answering it. This is much more important to me at the moment. Huge Materia that threatens everything in Gaia if you want to get technical about it. Yeah, that's worth missing a phone call for.

But the ringing continues despite my best attempts to avoid answering. Tseng will have my head for ignoring him this round, but, seeing as he is supposed to be tracking this fierce weapon at the moment - according to Scarlet's very own orders anyway, I think he might make an exception.

Automatically, I grab the annoying piece of technology and decide to answer it. It can only be one of three people calling me, well, two calling, the other just a phone call to the action.

"_What the hell did you do Spike?" _I flinch as Barret's gruff tone travels over the line in what I can only imagine is an inner group conflict about to spring out of control. I stop typing to listen closer. Reeve must have synced Cait Sith with the PHS system.

"_I didn't do anything. Damn thing just stalled as we went over the rocks up here." _I cannot help but allow a brief smile at Cloud's seemingly innocent reply to the lead watchdog.

"_Well, can ya fix it?" _

"_How in the hell would I know? It's bad enough Tifa's driving."_

"_Lay off. Had you only read the map correctly, we wouldn't be stranded in the middle of nowhere!" _Middle of nowhere? I scrawl the information down on a piece of paper, Huge Materia momentarily at the back of my mind. This could prove fruitful for us.

There is the shuffle of feet against hard stone.

"_We're not in the middle of nowhere," _the voice of Red XIII echoes with a seemingly amused presence about him. _"See. Up there."_

"_How in the hell we gonna get the hell up there cat?"_

"_You humans prattle on too much about walking a simple couple of hundred yards."_

"_That ain't a few little yards! It's a couple of miles!" _

"_And your point is?" _

"_These legs ain't going nowhere close to that distance."_

"_Aw, come on Barret._" Trust Aerith to take a gentle optimistic control on the group. _"It might be fun."_

"_Fun ain't walking miles across canyons of red stone when its already god-awful hot out here."_

Hard red stone. Canyons. They're in Cosmo Canyon Territory if I've got the right idea. I stop writing, wanting to know how this ends. I cannot help but allow a brief snicker at how stuck they seem to be. Serves them right for injuring Reno.

"_Well," _a voice I do not recognize responds with a bit of a sinister intent. _"You could always stay here with me." _

The echo of discontent snarls in various scattered annoyance fill the line.

"_You'll rob us blind if we let you here. It's bad enough you've robbed us blind already."_

"_Aw, I won't steal your materia. Just relocate and reappropriate it for a better use."_

That accent sounds familiar. Wutainese if I'm not mistaken. Sounds like they have a bit of a kleptomaniac with them now. I make note of it for further use should I need it.

"_All right. All right. Calm down everyone." _Tifa chimes in, trying to regain order of the situation. _"We'll all go. Maybe someone up there can fix it for us. It's not like we haven't walked before. We'll be on the road by tomorrow if we play our cards right."_

"_God damn Shinra machine." _The sound of someone, Barret no doubt, kicking the side of the buggy out of frustration. In a way, I'm happy they made it out of Gongaga.

They'll be safe in Cosmo Canyon at least. Shinra avoids that place like the plague. Partially because it is where it is. And partially because they do not take much stock in the wisdom of its inhabitants, and the lack of a reactor also keeps them at bay.

The line goes dead, allowing me to return to my research of why Scarlet is running all over creation in search of this Huge Materia.

I bet Cosmo Canyon would have something on it. From what I've heard, it is quite the place to visit and study planet life. Never been there myself though. Maybe when I get out of this hellish catastrophe I'll make a trip there to see the place for myself. A Shinra-free zone for now. Yeah. That would be nice.

Some time later, the PHS shrills again. I answer it without second thoughts, that inner watchdog and mutt wanting, longing, to hear more information. It's a comfort thing I suppose. With Reno in the hospital and AVALANCHE on the run, what little information I can get will make all the difference I tell myself.

Jessie wants more information I should say. Cissnei's worrying over Reno and the others.

The line is quieter, more somber than before. I double check the coordinates of Cait Sith against the PHS. They appear to be seated around the Cosmo Candle, talking in lower, more subdued tones that are difficult to hear over this method of contact.

"_The elders taught me a lot. I'm all alone now. The only Cetra…" _Aerith whispers, her tone holding an air of honor and fear. The last of such a puzzling race. I cannot imagine a life like that. Fleeing for your entire life, and then forced to see the truth in whatever study of planet life they just came from.

"_You have us," _Cloud replies in that helpful tone of his - a tone I've heard many times myself. "_We can help, right?" _

There is silence for a few moments, as though she is trying to find an answer for him.

"_I wonder how many years it has been. Gosh, it brings back memories." _The Scottish accent of Cait Sith breaks the troublesome silence and allows Aerith to not answer immediately to Cloud's inquiry. For once, I'm happy Reeve did that. The silence is unwelcome, the conversation forced into territory no one but Aerith has privilege to. I feel sorry for her in a way.

I'll have to ask Reeve about Cosmo Canyon next time I see him. From the sounds of it, he's been there before.

"_What a boring place." _The kleptomaniac ninja named Yuffie as I have gathered from what Reeve sent me on her responds, not fazed a bit by the somber mood. _"I wanna go find some materia."_

Materia. Wonder what she has in mind to do with it. I hope she's not working for Shinra like Reeve and I are.

"_Cloud." _Tifa addresses him in a low tone. _"Bon fires are funny, aren't they. They make you remember all sorts of things. You know Cloud, five years ago…"_

Her words hitch in her throat, as if she is hiding something from the blonde haired infantryman. _"Never mind. I'm afraid to ask. It feels like you're going away. You are still yourself, right?"_

Cloud remains silent for a few moments, as if to collect his thoughts into some sort of memory that doesn't exist.

"_Yeah Tifa. I'm still me." _If only that quote was true. He's changed. I can tell by the way his voice wavers from the time I spent with him. He's uncertain, confused even by her inquiry.

"_Well, here it is, Cosmo Canyon." _Barret adds to the conversation, his tone laden with quiet sympathy unbefitting of him. _"I promised my guys someday, when we saved the planet from Shinra, we'd all come here to celebrate. Biggs, Wedge, Jessie. All of them died for the planet."_

The words stab bitterly to my soul. Hearing my comrades' names and my own spoken like that sends a quiet moment of sorrow through my mind.

"_Will they ever forgive me?" _His tone is genuine sorrow. He's blaming himself for something that happened beyond his range of control. I forgive you Barret. It was not your fault the tides turned so suddenly. You couldn't have known. _"Right now I only know one thing. If there's anything I can do to save the planet, then I'm gonna do it damn it. I don't care if its revenge or not. AVALANCHE is born again."_

I sit a little taller in the chair at the words. AVALANCHE is strong now. Stronger than it used to be. I can speak of them with pride for their actions. Shinra won't stand a chance now with them working together. I can still help them. I will find a way to help them. I am one of them.

"_Long ago, when I was a pup." _Red XIII chimes in. _"We sat around this fire…No. Never mind." _

"_What happened?" _Cloud asks, eager to know the back story to the fire red beast's history.

"_It's about my parents," _he answers. _"When I speak of my mother, I am full of pride and joy. My father though, fills me with rage and anger."_

"_You still cannot forgive him?" _And older gentleman inquires.

"_He left my mother for dead. When the GI tribe attacked, he ran off on his own and left us for dead."_

"_Come Nanaki." _The older gentleman replies. _"There is something you need to see."_

The line goes quiet, ending the conversation for me.

I turn back to the files on the disk and begin reading through them, motivation to finish strong in my soul. I will find out what this madwoman is up to.


	20. Ghost Town

**Well, the Muse is finally getting back to semi-normal, or as close as we're probably going to get given the circumstances (about 90 percent anyway). That said, this chapter is kind of a hack write, but I think ya'll will enjoy it for the game events anyway. Hopefully, as the update schedule goes, more action is headed your way soon (in about two chapters). Promise. **

**Chapter Twenty - Ghost Town**

Shinra has been involved in more than its fair share of underhanded criminal activities over the years. Hell, I dedicated a large majority of my life to making sure half of those activities went through without a hitch. But nothing prepares me for the information contained in the slim black folder Reeve slips across my makeshift desk sometime around two in the morning Midgar Time.

"This can't be right." And it can't be. There is no way in hell anything I'm looking at is real.

"I'm afraid this is the right information."

I slap the folder back onto the table, not wanting to believe that anything I'm just read is even close to the truth. I saw the aftermath personally. Hell, that night ruined my life and eventually landed me in this position. And now they're trying to say than nothing happened that night?

What for all that is holy inspired them to pull this kind of underhanded stunt?

I reach across the table and manually input the coordinates for Cait Sith and Reeve does not even try to stop me. I just have to know for myself what in the hell is going on out there.

"_I'm not lying!" _Cloud's voice holds an air of hurt to it. _"I remember the intensity of the flames."_

"_I'm not saying you're lying," _Tifa adds, a bit spooked in her words. _"That's my house standing over there."_

"_Come on. Let's check it out."_

The sound of hurried footsteps fills the line, no doubt the entire group making for what for house belongs to Tifa. I glance towards Reeve and grab the blueprints from the folder.

"How accurate are these blueprints?"

"Near exact. Digging them up was not pleasant. To think-"

"Lockheart's house," I cut him off, the business side of me taking over. "Which one is it?"

Reeve fishes out the diagram of a house, along with several photographs to give me a better view of what my comrades might be seeing at the moment. Holy. If Shinra has this kind of photography on every village they've burned down, then this was brewing for a while.

"_Re…union…" _A raspy voice echoes across the wires with a dull shriek to the line. I draw back, taken by surprise. _"Must…get…become one with Sephiroth…" _

Become one with Sephiroth? What in the hell is going on here?

"_The black cape," _Cloud whispers, something on his mind. _"This guy has the number 5 tattooed to his arm."_

"_What do you think it means. They're everywhere, lurking in the shadows like puppets." _

"_I don't know Tifa. Something's not right here. Let's try upstairs."_

Black cape wearing shadow people. I type the information into the computer, searching for some of Hojo's old files. Numbers. He numbered all of his experiments. That much I do know. As to what he did to link them with Sephiroth though, I have no idea.

"_This is spooky. Just how I remember it." _

"_Yeah. I remember playing the piano when I was here. But, why didn't it get burnt down?" _The sound of someone sitting down and playing a haunting melody fills the line. This is spooky. _"Huh. Just like before. Let's check this place out further." _

"_They even have the same books that I had on this shelf. As if, none of this ever happened."_

"_I need to see something for myself Tifa. Let's try next door." _

I rifle through the folder and dig out what is supposed to be Cloud Strife's house.

"_Excuse me. Miss," _Cloud takes charge of the situation, a bit offended that someone is in his house. Now if Shinra went the whole way in covering this up… "_I lived in this house until I was fourteen. But this town was burned down…" _

"_Are you sick young man, saying those things? Get out of here!" _

He's not sick. He's right. Nibelheim burned to the ground and has been resurrected as though it was just built out of the ashes. And the majority of us have been left out on the reasons why.

"Reeve. Be honest with me. What is Shinra up to by resurrecting a ghost town?"

"I'm not sure." The way he says it convinces me he is telling the truth. Why Tseng would keep something like this out of my knowledge bothers me. I saw bits and pieces of the rebuilt town when I went to chase Zack and Cloud through the surrounding plains, but I had no idea they replicated everything down to the very smallest detail.

"_Yo Spike. What's got you so spooked?" _Barret chimes in, no doubt with the rest of the crew in tow.

"_This town was burned down five years ago. And I intend on proving it."_

He's bothered, no doubt lost and confused about the circumstances. He's not the only one. I'm not even sure what in the hell is going on."

"_Excuse me Sir. This town was burned down five years ago. What in the hell is going on here?" _

"_Don't say such things Sir. I was born and raised in this town, and what you say never happened."_

"_You're lying." _Tifa responds accusingly.

"_Excuse me Miss. But if you intend on talking to me like that, then I'll have to ask you to leave."_

The problem is that they are the ones telling the truth. The fact that Shinra went and seemingly replaced everyone in the village is what's wrong.

"_Alright, look. Something's definitely wrong with this town." _He must be addressing the whole group over this fiasco. "_I'm going to check one last place before we waste anymore time here."_

"_What's with the shadow creeps?" _

"_I don't know yet. That's what I want to find out. Let's go."_

I pull aside the folder once more, searching for the list of underhanded Shinra employees being paid to make Nibelheim look semi-normal to the innocent bystander. I'm really starting to hate this town.

Fifteen minutes later, the transmission from Cait Sith says something that makes my blood run cold.

"_Sephiroth!" _

For a moment, I regard and equally stunned Reeve. Sephiroth. The Sephiroth is there, right now, talking to Cloud and the others. This day can't get any better, can it?

"_Being here brings back memories." _He seems almost casual, nostalgic even for a general of his caliber. Ghost, I correct myself. He's a phantom that should not still exist. "_Are you going to participate in the reunion?"_

"_I don't even know what a Reunion is!"_

"_Jenova will be at the Reunion. Jenova will join the Reunion, becoming a calamity from the skies."_

"_Jenova, a calamity from the skies? You mean she wasn't an Ancient?" _

I make a note to go back through Gast's notes on the Ancients to see just what that could mean. It doesn't sound too pleasant at all.

"_I see. I don't think you have the right to participate. I will go North, past Mount Nibel. If you wish to find out, then follow."_

Tseng will want to know the location. As to whether or not Cloud intends on chasing him the whole way to wherever Sephiroth is going remains to be seen.

"_Reunion? Calamity from the skies?"_

The transmission ends abruptly with static over the wires. Something must have screwed with the transmitter, something evil in nature. I lean back in my chair, not wanting to believe any of this.

"Reeve. Please tell me that I did not just hear what I just heard."

He merely regards the computer screen in unsettling silence.


	21. Puzzles and Planes

**Yes. Yes I know. ::Ducks behind super cool Muse fan fiction shield:: I am fully aware I omitted a complete chapter with limitless potential and you fans of the game events are probably seething right now, or will be once you read this one. It's not that I could not think of a good introduction to meeting Cid, but I needed this set up mission to get the plot moving. So before ya'll flood my inbox with angry rants (Kiba knows who you are) and vicious threats to take away my supply of peanut butter eggs, try to keep an open mind when reading this chapter and know that you'll be seeing a wave of action coming to the fic soon. (Those of you who already know what I'm talking about, please don't spoil it for everyone. Thanks!) Enjoy folks!**

**Chapter Twenty One - Puzzles and Planes**

I followed the trail from Gast's paperwork until well after sunrise, eventually ending up close to where I started - confused and unable to understand just what Sephiroth is after. Calamity from the skies. I can't find much on what all that entails, but it does not sound very pleasant for any of us.

And so far Reeve's search has been even less fruitful than my own. All we've come up with together are the bare essentials of what a scientist in the prime of his life and career considered to be research and progress. I'm no scientist myself, so all of these charts and graphs mean nothing to me. All I'm after is what Tseng must have been after - a link between Sephiroth, the Promised Land, Cetra, and the alien being Jenova.

It's like staring at the outline of a massive jigsaw puzzle without a picture to go from to make sure all of the pieces fit correctly. I've got hundreds of thousands of pieces and no frame or outline to put them in. Talk about frustrating.

"You're up early today."

I jump at Tseng's presence in the doorway, inwardly flinching for being so damn careless about keeping the door locked.

"I'm actually on my way to bed," I respond, a bit bitter about being caught off guard. Cissnei would never let something like that happen. Jessie, not so much. I guess you get used to people dropping in at random to the point where it just seems normal to let them stay without question.

"Between you and Reno I'm not sure which has given me more gray hairs." He drags the other chair closer and sits down to stare at the laptop screen in vague amusement. Surprisingly, he has not been drinking. "So, did you enjoy the outside world?"

Damn you Reeve for telling him about what I do on my own time. I strike the keyboard a bit harsher than normal in response.

"You realize a sniper could have picked you off before you would have even known it was there. Turks without common sense make for easy targets."

Here we go. I swear all he does lately is lecture me.

"I was more than aware of the risks Tseng." And I was. I kept out of sight and well hidden. If there was a sniper out there he would have already found me and finished me off. "You can't expect me to stay cooped up here willingly."

"Reno's worried about you," Tseng replies in a dare I even say casual manner unbefitting of his position in the Turk ladder. "All he's talked about since ending up losing against AVALANCHE was how you were taking the news. He's not sure what side you're on."

Right now, neither. I'm supposed to be the 'neutral' party, remember.

"Don't worry. He's just as ornery as usual. His arm is already out of its sling and he's already plotting ways out of work now that he's healthy."

Typical Reno way of thinking. I wouldn't be surprised if he seeks out AVALANCHE himself just to see what happens. He's the sort of watchdog that just has to chase the proverbial skunk even though he knows the odds of success are against him.

"I thought I would check in on you and tell you to be careful. Something's up with the phone lines."

The phone lines. Don't even finish that sentence how I think you will. I can't handle juggling another issue at the moment on top of everything else.

"I'm here to warn you Cissnei. You need to be careful about what you do. Scarlet's put a trace on several of the untraceable lines, as well as Cait Sith. Anything you do, listen in on, or even access could be monitored by Weapons Research."

I swear. Give me five minutes with that woman face to face and I'd be more than happy to finish her off.

"I've got something for you too Tseng." I flip up the transmission from the other day about Sephiroth in the old Shinra Mansion.

For a moment he listens to the words, his lips pursed in deep thought.

"So, the rumors are true. Sephiroth is back from the dead."

"Yeah. Something about a Calamity from the Skies." I pull all of my research into one document and transferring it to the most secure section of Tseng's mailbox that I can given the new restrictions. Like anyone in Weapons Research can beat a world class hacker. I'll show them how the game is played. "Mind telling me just what Shinra's trying to do?"

"It's a long story that I don't even know the finer details of. I can't discuss it with you."

I flip the laptop closed and stare at him.

"Sir, with all do respect you're sitting in a run down apartment holding a conversation with a wanted terrorist. Who in the hell would I tell?"

"It's not who you would tell. It's how you might use the information." How I might use the information. Unless it directly affects me or I even get the opportunity to use it, I highly doubt anything he could possibly say would apply to my problem. For Holy's sake, Reno and I saw Sephiroth in the flesh ourselves.

"Calamity of the Skies," I reply, prying for information. The more I know, the better off I'll be. It's my job to be nosy. A good fox is of little use in the dark.

"There have been rumors scattered amongst the brass," he replies in a dark whisper. "I'm not certain of their authenticity or even if I heard correctly, but Scarlet is seeking what is supposedly Huge Materia. Rumor has it that she's planning something big, and it involves Sephiroth."

"Like the Promised Land?" I cannot help but take a jab at him over what I've been working on since midnight.

"I see you've been in Gast's files."

"Like you haven't. I know what I heard Tseng. I know what I saw. I'm no expert on Cetra affairs by any means, but whatever a Calamity from the sky is does not sound good for the rest of us."

"I share your concerns. That's another reason why I'm here today. You can thank Palmer for this visit."

Palmer? He's even more useless than Heidegger when it comes down to having a purpose on the Shinra totem pole. The fact that he's working with the Turks is just awkward by anyone's standards. My blank stare must be contagious. Tseng's looking at me with this unusual hint of amusement about him.

"AVALANCHE appeared in Rocket Town while Rufus was trying to confiscate Mr. Highwind's Tiny Bronco Airplane to follow Sephiroth. His biggest mistake was not putting a Turk on the job. I recommended Reno, but Palmer claimed to know more about aircraft than a Turk who's been flying for most of his career."

I don't like where this is going. For as much of a pain in the ass Reno can be at times, I have to admit that there are very few pilots out there who can fly better than him - especially when it comes to experimental aircraft. Not that he's any Cid Highwind or anything, but I wouldn't be surprised if the two of them met once and swapped aviation talk.

"So I take it Palmer crashed the aircraft?"

"Palmer ended up making a mockery of Shinra by engaging AVALANCHE in conflict and getting hit by a Shinra delivery truck."

For a moment I'm not sure if I should be laughing at the turn of events or feeling sorry for the Shinra company. Getting hit by a truck. What a way to make a good impression. I almost wish Cait Sith would have been in the group at that point to hear the comments.

"I take it there is more to this than a simple embarrassing turn or events."

"Don't worry. Palmer will live. Rufus sabotaged himself though. The Tiny Bronco crashed just outside of Rocket town with Mr. Highwind and several members of AVALANCHE aboard. From the reports, it was Strife, Gainsborough, and Lockheart. They hit the ocean and we haven't seen them since."

Cid Highwind might have just joined AVALANCHE. Rufus must be fit to be tied over this one. Not only do they have a strong support structure in Barret, Cloud, and Tifa, but with Aerith's knowledge of the Cetra and now the best pilot in the world, Shinra better start thinking about what to do should they decide to do some real damage.

"Rufus now thinks they'll lead him to Sephiroth and are following to seek the Promised Land just like he is."

"Trust me. They are not thinking like Shinra. If anything they'll probably try to destroy Sephiroth and do everything Shinra won't."

And I wish them the best when they do. It is not going to be an easy mission for them.

"We need all the help we can get from AVALANCHE at this point." He hands me a folded up piece of fabric. "You don't have to give me an answer today, but, I could always use an experienced Turk with a sympathetic side who can walk on eggshells and still bite worse than the rest of them. In this case, it is a necessity."

I unfold the fabric and immediately feel sick to my stomach.

My old uniform.


	22. Crossroads

**Hey there folks. Pardon the lack of updates lately. The Muse hasn't been feeling very Muse-like and inspired to really work on fan fiction. That and my router went nuts which just put the Muse in a bad mood in general. Hopefully, I'll get out of this rut soon and get some things updated. Enjoy this short update until then folks.**

**Chapter Twenty Two - Crossroads**

The woolen fabric is scratchy and worn from the many years of use I once got out of this particular blazer. An awkward stitch in the sleeve from where a mission with Reno had gone awry and we'd both nearly been killed in a shootout with a group of renegade drug lords. A folded over hem because the length was a tad bit too long when this was first made for me. The remnants of an old bloodstain that refused to be washed out of its midnight fabric. It's amazing how many memories can be left in a brief few stitches.

I'm not sure just why Tseng would go and bring something like this to me when he knows I am not interested in becoming a Turk again. I've been down that road already. I do not intent on backtracking to get ahead this time. I am a part of AVALANCHE, not Shinra. I am not a 'friend' to the Turks.

And yet here I sit, my blazer spread across the table looking every bit as prim and proper as I remember it being. They say a good watchdog remembers every detail of their life and can recall a memory right down to the smallest detail. You can almost relive those memories as if they have recently occurred or are currently occurring.

Right now Cissnei knows this life better than she cares to admit. This blazer is hers. It was stitched especially for her. It is a right of passage to the most evil career on the planet - a life she traded for a shot at freedom.

And Jessie is not happy about it. Even so much as owning this piece of fabric is a direct act of treason to everything I have fought for so far. To even think about wearing such a thing makes the sacrifices of AVALANCHE worthless. I cannot bring myself to dishonor the lives lost by doing so.

But why did I not send it away with Tseng when I had the chance? Why did I insist on keeping it? He did this on purpose. To see how I might react to the prospect of going back to work for the very company that wants me dead. He _wants _me to put this back on and crawl back to his protection with my tail tucked beneath my legs.

As wiser fox would consider this to be the opportunity of a lifetime. Immunity in a game where none should exist. It is a lifeline I do not deserve. I'm being given a chance to survive whatever it is Tseng knows is waiting in the shadows.

And Turks take every chance of survival that is offered to them. Why should a fox not see the value in taking full advantage of that?

My fingers graze the fabric of the blazer once more. Everything hinges upon this particular piece of fabric. If I choose to not accept Tseng's proposal, there is the strong possibility that I'm going to end up dead. Not that it should make much of a difference. I am only delaying the inevitable fate that has been stalking me. One only gets to be so lucky so many times before they place a foot wrong and ultimately end up dead.

So is how this game is played.

I can't do this. I don't want to do this. And yet every fiber of my being warns that if I don't take the opportunity, I'm going to regret it. Tseng doesn't play games when it comes to business and right now I cannot afford to end up on his bad side.

That is something both Cissnei and Jessie can both agree on. Fighting Tseng is not a good idea no matter how desperate you are to escape. If I want my freedom, I have to play his games.

I let the fabric run over my fingers once more. I've reached the end of the fence with hounds on both sides. All that is left for me is to jump. The question is where. Where do I jump to next? Running amongst the hounds is the most dangerous place someone like me can go. But, to look for another fence where there is none is just stupid.

I pull the blazer over my shoulders. This is a game of survival now. And I'm going to take whatever chances I can to ensure that I'm around to help my comrades.

The PHS shrills, interrupting whatever cons I had intended to talk myself out of doing this with. Damn he's good at knowing just when to call.

"What do you want now?" I cannot help but be annoyed with the interruption. He didn't even give me a whole day to think about whether or not I was interested in becoming a Turk again.

"Cissnei." Tseng's voice sounds strained, if not a little bit frantic. "I need your help."

Something in the way he says help makes my blood run cold. He's not testing the waters this time. Did that witch of a woman find out about this? Did she threaten to murder Reeve for his involvement? The watchdog in me ignores the fox's stern sense of warning about becoming involved with Turk matters. Anytime he calls me it is never a good thing. This is Cissnei's fight, not Jessie's.

"What do you need sir?" I answered that a bit too quickly for my own liking. Just like a well trained watchdog would when being addressed by a master.

"You need to get to the Sector Five Train Station Junction as soon as possible. You're to rendezvous with Reeve. He'll give your further orders. Don't take your good old time. Scarlet's troops are going to be heading for the same location."

Scarlet's heading for the same location? Fantastic. I work for a madman now. What does he expect us to do when we meet? Have a friendly non-lethal chat?

"Tseng-"

"I've uploaded a map of upper city Midgar onto your PHS. That will help you find the station from your current location. And Cissnei-"

"Yes Tseng?"

"Take your gun. It will mean the difference between life and death this time."

I button the blazer and tuck the pistol into the holster. I don't like where this is going.


	23. Playing with Fire

**Ugh. The Muse is working on writing her way out of that writing rut she tripped and fell into. Hopefully I'll be able to bring the quality up to par fairly quickly and keep ya'll happy with an update every now and then. Bear with me folks. The Muse has been under a lot of unnecessary stress lately and hasn't exactly had time for well-written fan fiction. (Being bitten by a venomous spider did not help matters either and typing with one hand sucks royally.) That said, hopefully this chapter will live up to expectation even though it is a little shorter and rushed than usual. Enjoy this one until I can find time for another, more action-packed update folks.**

**Chapter Twenty Three - Playing with Fire**

They say that it takes a great deal of faith to jump a solid, safety-built fence without knowing just what lies upon the other side. Unfortunately I took a running leap and landed in a pit of flames.

I duck into the closest alleyway and momentarily consider pitching this useless piece of plastic into the street to be crushed beneath the wheels of a passing vehicle. A map of Midgar is only useful when the map matches the actual streets to scale. Right now I'm about four miles off course and if that side of the Shinra Corporate Building is any indication to go by, I'm thoroughly entrenched somewhere close to Sector Seven…

A stupid, rookie mistake. I listen to the sound of the city for a few seconds longer. Everything is a threat today. The grinding of tires over blacktop. It could mean the presence of snipers being ferried across the city. The people walking down the street looking as innocent as can be. They could be allied with Shinra. At any given moment I could be shot while trying to find my way around a city I thought I knew every inch of.

Scratch that. I _knew_ every part of the city except for this place. It feels as though I am a foreigner now. My eyes narrow at the thought. I am an outcast. Someone who lives on the fringe of the city with the sole intention of trying to find a way out. Yes. I'm only here to play Tseng's games.

I'm being watched. Call it the most important of the sixth senses of intuition we Turks possess. I skirt closer to the building and try to remember which way the Sector Five station is from here. This is a bad idea. I can feel it.

It takes me more than twenty minutes to find the station in the hustle and bustle of city life under cover of broad daylight. If they recognize a Turk amongst their ranks, they certainly do not show it. A fact I am most thankful for given the circumstances. I don't think I'm ready to have to shoot someone today.

"Cissnei." I automatically glance around for the source of the voice in the crowd like a good watchdog should. He's over by the thirteenth pillar, lingering in the shadows like some sort of clichéd villain about to commit a criminal offense. I make my way towards the shadows to escape the public eye. A part of me wants to break free and run. Run until I reach the outskirts of Midgar and never look back.

But that stern sense of discipline prevents me from doing so.

"Tseng said this was urgent." I cut to the chase immediately. If anything my former boss said is true, then Scarlet and her men should be within the vicinity right now, waiting to kill the two of us.

I finger the handle of the pistol out of nervous habit. At least we'll go down fighting. Reeve nods and creeps deeper into the shadows. A man like him should never try to creep anywhere. He's really not terribly good at it.

"It is." He answers in a hurried whisper. He's nervous about something, too jittery to be on this sort of mission, whatever it may be. Great. Tseng must have sent me to make sure the engineer doesn't get killed.

"Get to the point Reeve," I warn, the Turk in me annoyed by his nervous habits. "You needed my help. Now tell me what I have to do."

He withdraws an item wrapped in dark fabric from under his dark coat and hands it to me.

"This belongs to you."

"You brought me out here to-" I pry away the fabric and nearly drop the item in shock. What for cruel sense of humor is this supposed to be? "Where did you get this?"

Reeve takes a step away from me - almost as though he is a little bit scared at how I'm taking the newest problem I have to contend with. He should be scared. If he was anyone else I would have probably already killed him over this.

"Tseng meant to give it to you but never got around to it. He felt this mission would be an appropriate time."

An appropriate time? Just what in the hell does he expect me to encounter out there today? I run my fingers over the inlaid veins of crimson along the tempered steel, marred with countless nicks and chips - battle damage at its finest. They say a weapon tells the story of its wielder's life better than any words can. I can only imagine the stories this tells about me. I'm still shocked that it somehow survived the collapse of Sector Seven.

It may be Cissnei's weapon, but Jessie sure as hell cannot argue that it is not appreciated. It's just as I remember it being and a distant part of me is comforted that I don't have to rely solely on a pistol to solve any hostile encounters. Familiarity is the foundation of a successful mission.

Reeve allows a brief smile as I continue to study Rekka and produces a small plastic card from his jacket pocket, handing it to me.

"I take it Tseng did something right for a change? Come on. I'll tell you the schematics of the mission away from prying eyes."

Wait. This card-

"Reeve. This isn't going to work."

"What do you mean?"

"This ID," I hold the piece of plastic out so he can see it. "There's no way Shinra Security will let it slide."

And they won't. With all of the flaws it has we won't even board the train. I thought my slipshod attempt at ID cards for AVALANCHE was bad. The engineer smirks and points to the train in a casual manner.

"Consider yourself fortunate then that today is the one day the security system is down for maintenance. Background checks have been disabled for exactly three hours and the card you hold in your hands identifies you are a civil engineer, so no questions will be asked."

And yet why am I having second thoughts about this? Shinra just doesn't bring a city-wide security system offline at the snap of its fingers. No one gets that lucky. With Scarlet and her men prowling somewhere in the local vicinity - I don't even want to think about the disaster we're heading into.

"Listen. Tseng only told you a small fraction of what is going on today. Now either get on the train and follow his orders, or I'll let you here to fend for yourself. Either way I'm already committed to this, and trust me, the last person who needs to back me up on this mission is a woman like Scarlet. I'd much rather have an experienced Turk with me."

Ten minutes later, against all of my best judgment, I find myself seated across from Reeve, pondering just what type of a murder I can get away with and how quickly I can reach the border to outrun Tseng and whoever the hell else might come after me.

"I want you to repeat every word of that again, starting with the exact reason Tseng offered _me_ as a perfect candidate to go through with this."

Reeve peers out the window to the passing support beams as though dealing with a vengeful Turk-turned-terrorist is a fairly common occurrence.

"Shinra has encountered a situation of sorts involving AVALANCHE. Last Tseng heard from Reno, the group was wandering around Wutai with some sort of vendetta against someone."

Not what I want to hear today Reeve. The fact that Reno and AVALANCHE might have locked horns again in Wutai of all places is a bit of a nightmare scenario. How'd they get so far off course? Unless-

"Reeve, do you honestly think AVALANCHE is just willing to do whatever Shinra wants them to do? They're perfectly entitled to go to Wutai if they want."

"Not by Shinra's standards they can't," his eyes narrow. "When Scarlet found out, she practically destroyed most of the board room and was ready to take the entire military after them. It was not a pretty sight. And Rufus was even less helpful in the situation. Tseng's news that Reno and the rest of the Turks conveniently passed up Strife and his crew in favor of chasing Corneo off of a cliff sat really well."

Way to go Reno. So you might have learned something after all. At least he's started to think a little bit.

"I take it this is part of the reason I'm here then?" It doesn't take too much thought to figure that out. Tseng's troops are in Wutai apparently, leaving me here in Midgar.

"Scarlet changed the rules at the last minute - enough to really bother Tseng. She seems to feel that AVALANCHE needs a little bit of less-than-gentle 'persuasion' to get back on the trail of finding this keystone."

"Persuasion?" Dare I even ask what this all entails?

"You're not going to like what she has in mind as a fail-proof plan. Tseng likes it even less and took it upon himself to make this a Turk matter in a direct stand against her."

If Tseng's gone again protocol, again, then this really is a serious matter. What possibly could bother a Turk to that extent?

"So, what exactly does he want me to do about this? Technically I'm the last person he should be using, given my track record with orders lately."

"This is a mission he would not entrust to even Reno. He needs someone who will take the mission seriously, and ensure the target survives the encounter. In about thirty minutes we'll be arriving at our destination and we'll see just how much you remember from your Turk days."

He hands me a piece of paper written in the finest typography Shinra has to offer and signed by Tseng. I wonder just who- Oh no.

"If Scarlet gets within fifty feet of this person, Shinra is going to have to find a new head of Weapons Research." I swear to god I will murder this woman by the end of the day. There is just no way any of this is right.

"Tseng thought you might be interested and try your hardest to make this mission a success."

"Reeve, did Tseng ever mention that Turks are not supposed to actually know their victims?"

He shakes his head and retrieves the piece of paper from my grasp.

"In about half of an hour, we're going to find out if there is any truth in that statement. I trust you'll not disappoint him."

This is the one mission I'm not certain I'm ready for. Kidnapping a five year old has got to be the lowest of the low. Especially this particular one. If I fail this mission, Tseng is not going to be the only person out to kill me...


	24. Hostages

**Whoot! The Muse is back in the game folks. Er-well, she hopes she is quality-wise. The spider bite has healed. I've got 85-90 percent movement back in my shoulder and arm, improving daily, and I'm ready to get this fic moving! So, I want to personally thank everyone for their continued support on the fic and say once again thank you to everyone who has been reading, reviewing and motivating me to keep writing. Thanks a bunch everyone! **

**Chapter Twenty Four - Hostages**

The rest of the journey deep into Sector Five is quiet, neither Reeve, nor myself daring to say much to one another after the revelation of Tseng's orders. Truth be told, I'm beyond furious over the turn of events. Mad enough to say screw it all and just run off without a care of the consequences.

Unfortunately my goddamn pride always gets the best of me. I can't help it. I was raised a Turk, and, knowing the luck I've been having, I'm more than likely going to die as one. There is a certain level of nostalgia that one feels upon stepping out of the train car to the dark underground of Midgar's slums. To run now would brand me a coward, something I just cannot bring myself to do.

It's cold down here today – as though the outside world of the wastelands has managed to creep through the corral-like barrier herding everyone in place and decided to cling to the stagnant air's oily residue clinging to the corroded surfaces cluttering the place. It's a world caught in between destruction and despair. For a moment, I halt upon the cracked stone of the train station platform, clutching Rekka's frigid surface with numb fingers.

A part of me is afraid of this place. The façade of artificial light spilling down from the steel beams stretched above us to the upper world. The twisted steel that came crashing down in a molten inferno that shattered any confidence that any sane person might have had about the pillars. It's like walking into a coffin, a sick, twisted, lethal coffin that's lid will come crashing down at any second to snuff out what little life remains down here.

And yet that other part of me is not afraid of this place. To Jessie, it is the closest thing to home she's ever known. Dark and grimy as this place is, I've, in nothing short of amazement, actually grown quite fond of the underworld. It is a change of pace. It is a place with something to offer that is not the dull routine of Shinra.

It is the only place I don't have to be the prim and proper watchdog Shinra has groomed me to be. Here there is freedom. Here I used to run with the mutts.

My companion mutters something under his breath that sounds a little like discontent at being forced into walking through the layers of packed rust and frosted mud that coat the ground. Who could blame him? He's an outcast down here – an engineer for god's sakes. No one expects him to get off of his almighty pedestal and actually walk amongst the mere mortals, excuse me; I mean rodents that inhabit this place in no simple sort of organized scurrying.

It's a little like a Turk in a bar – just asking for trouble by the end of the night. And right now, I don't think I've ever been on a mission with anyone as uncomfortable as Reeve looks right now. Forget sending me along to commit the cardinal sin of all Turk sins. Keeping him from getting killed trumps that a thousand times. I just hope he's not going to be a hindrance.

"Stop it," I warn, brandishing Rekka so that he backs away a few steps in fright. I'm not in the mood to deal with cowards today. "You're making yourself an easy target for thieves if you continue to look like you don't know what you're doing down here."

He raises an eyebrow in mild surprise at the bitter edge to my voice. Yes Reeve. There is a reason I'm wearing my old uniform. Cissnei was not the nicest person on the planet when out on missions. Sympathetic to a fault, but dedicated to her job. And right now, you're stuck with her until we get back to the – just where in the hell does Tseng expect me to keep a five year old hostage anyway?

Never mind. I'll deal with it when the time requires me to do so. Until then, I've got a mission to complete.

"Cissnei-"

"You asked for my help. I suggest you let me do my job."

He falls silent as we stride into the cluttered streets, moving towards the pinnacled ivory and rust steeple poking above the rows of twisted metal. It's all I have to go on as I double check the address Tseng had written in the orders. Something deep inside me wills me to turn back before the inevitable ledge I'm walking out onto collapses and pitches me into the realm of no return.

I have a job to do. I cannot be thinking about this at the moment. For all I know, Scarlet may have already been here and taken our hostage. Reeve shuffles along behind me as we turn the corner, coming face to face with the towering symbol of beauty one would not expect to find in the slums of all places.

"I take it you have been here before?" He gestures to the crumbling chapel with a look of quiet longing about him.

"A few times." I avert my eyes from the elegant building and continue walking a few steps. "When I was not a Turk."

He nods in understanding, at least having sense enough to not pry any farther into territory he knows is off limits. More power to him. I'd rather not discuss my dealings with this particular place of peace and serenity while on a mission that goes against everything good in the world.

The chapel drops out of sight the farther we walk. I cannot help but shiver at the thought. The last time I was here, Cloud was dying of Mako Poisoning and Biggs and I had barely managed to skirt past Tseng with our lives.

Biggs…Something freezes me in the middle of the street before the archway leading to Sector Five's meager little gathering of houses and scrap shops. What would he say if he saw me like this – dressed like a Turk and about to royally screw AVALANCHE over by kidnapping the boss's daughter? He would have just gone ahead and shot me over this.

I can see it from here. The sickening gray light filtering across rusted steel surfaces adds a sort of unnatural glow to the Mako light across the closest thing to a town Sector Five has. Thankfully, the two of us are able to slip unnoticed through the scattered people going about their morning business. Tseng's traversed this territory enough times that none of them are going to question the presence of Turks. They know what we're capable of doing to them if they interfere.

"Are you sure you are feeling up to this?"

I halt at the small incline of the ground where the light is brighter, not even looking at him. "I'm not going to answer that, Reeve."

Keeping Rekka within view should one of Scarlet's men ambush us, I lead the way towards the small dwelling nestled amongst the field of vibrant flowers. A garden. It is a beautiful garden. Hundreds of tiny petals crammed together, each striving for what little natural light spills through the cracks in the plate and barrier walls. It's incredible actually. How something so beautiful can grow in a place so damn depressing. But I'm not here to look at flowers. Hell, if it were up to me, I'd never look at another flower again. The damn things are bad omens in my book.

My destination is the house that has somehow managed to withstand the test of time with a shred of dignity left. Checking once more for any signs of being followed, I take a deep breath and try to prepare myself for this.

The hollow click of the wood is deafening and for a brief moment, I wonder if everyone has heard the sound. Reeve steps beside me, more so out of pity than actual purpose. I knock again, and wait.

Seconds later, the door creeps open to reveal a middle-aged woman with several faint strands of silver mixed amongst her brown hair. The results of living with Aerith no doubt. She regards us in deep thought for several seconds, her eyes trailing to the shuriken at my side and the pistol Reeve has drawn and now has rested at his side in warning.

"Can I…help you?" She's choosing her words cautiously. The way her voice cracks ever so slightly as she studies the two of us from head to toe. It is a weakness. Just what I'm looking for.

"I believe you have someone under your care," my voice lowers in the steeled warning of the Turk I am at the moment. "Her name is Marlene Wallace."

"There's no one here by that-" Rekka catches the door and prevents it from being shut completely with a hostile click.

"Mrs. Gainsborough, I suggest that if you wish for this encounter to end peacefully, that you do no shut the door in our faces again. It's rather rude."

She takes a frightened step in reverse.

"W-what do you want with her?"

Reeve opens the door completely and we step into the small, almost cozy little kitchen.

"That is something best left unanswered at the moment." It's not exactly what she's done that concerns me. It's more of what Shinra intends on doing with her. I hate being the bad guy.

The scampering of footsteps fills the air from the creaky wooden stairs. Speak of the devil.

"Elmyra-" Our 'target' draws to an abrupt halt, eyes wide in surprise at our presence in the small kitchen.

The woman – Elmyra – as I've gathered her name to be, grasps Marlene and shields her from view. I can see it in her innocent brown eyes. She's afraid of us, and rightfully so. In less than a few seconds I could kill her and let the body lay and no one would ever know who was responsible for committing such a heinous crime. Reeve gives me a look that mimics my thoughts on the matter, no doubt uncertain himself how to proceed.

"Please don't make me have to do this the hard way." My fingers tap the steel surface of Rekka in warning yet again. The absolute last thing I need today is to have to murder a woman in cold blood over something stupid.

"You people already took Aerith from me. You promised to let the girl alone in exchange for her!"

Wait. What? Since when was there a promise in place? I look towards Reeve in question and he gives me an equally confused look. If he does know anything about it, he's been damn good about keeping it a secret. Tseng must have really done something behind our backs.

"Listen, Elmyra is it? It may come as a surprise to you, but we're not exactly here to hurt you or Marlene."

Reeve shoots me a somewhat hostile glare of disbelief as I casually rest Rekka at my side in the most nonthreatening of gestures. Go ahead. Be angry. Just how many hostage situations have you been involved with buddy? Sometimes the watchdog needs to behave a little less like a watchdog and more like the family pet.

"But you're Turks!"

"Actually-"

"Hey!" Marlene ventures away from the protective embrace of a horrified Elmyra, halting and looking up at Reeve and me with those innocent hazel eyes. "Aunt Jessie had a weapon just like that! We never saw her use it though. She said it was a dangerous weapon. You almost look just like her!"

Trust a child to make a connection quicker than most adults could. Damn it. I hate my job. Reeve's even looking at me now and if there was not a child present, I would not hesitate to strike him over it.

"Listen kid," my voice carries a hint of unnerved warning. It's the equivalent of a little kid walking up to the most threatening watchdog on the planet and grabbing them by the ears. Fortunately, I'm too damn good tempered to bite back. "I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Aunt Tifa said it wasn't nice to lie."

"Cissnei-"

"I'll handle it Reeve." And handle it I shall, like Jessie would when dealing with an intelligent five year old child. "Marlene. My name is Cissnei. I've been sent here to protect you from a very bad woman named Scarlet, who really dislikes your father-"

And will no doubt torture and kill the both of you if she catches you. I listen to the unmistakable whir of chopper blades somewhere in the distance, my blood running cold at the thought. Reeve hurries to the door and peers out, returning several shades paler.

"I think we've got a bit of a problem."

Crisis Reeve. We have a crisis. We bypassed problem a long time ago. I hold Rekka up defensively and make my way to the little window by the door, peering out. Shit. Scarlet's here all right. And it looks like she brought the military.

"Damn it."

I don't need this today. Elmyra looks at me in utter terror, her skin paler than usual. The poor woman looks like she's about to faint if I even think about telling her the consequences of being caught by that woman. Instead, I turn to Reeve for help.

"If the two of you want to get out of this alive, you'll do as Reeve and I say. Got that?" I gesture to the partially open window leading to the back of the house. It's a long shot, but I think we can make it. Elmyra nods in understanding and ushers Marlene through the open window while Reeve and I train our weapons upon the door should Scarlet decide to intrude. An evil little part of me wants her to, but the common sense part tells me to wait.

One of these days I'll get the chance to kill that woman. One of these days.

But today is not that day. No. I've got bigger problems to deal with - such as trying to figure out how to get the two hostages back to the apartment without getting them killed along the way. I follow Reeve out the window, somewhat surprised to have landed in Aerith's flower garden yet again.

Clutching Rekka and reaching for my pistol, I creep around the side of the house, watching as the evil blonde haired woman sidles up to the door and opens it without even knocking. She is flanked by three Shinra MPs. Good. We can deal with that many. Any more and we might just have a problem.

I wait until they've vanished into the house and gesture for Reeve and our 'targets' to hurry up and cross the open space to a tangle of rusted drainage pipes from the reactor in the distance. If we can get beyond Sector Five's town, we'll be in the clear.

Pistol trained upon the door as I keep low to the ground closer to Marlene and Elmyra like all good watchdogs should under the circumstances, I cannot help but smirk at the outward shriek of rage that escapes Scarlet over the lack of hostages for her sadistic whims.

"If we hurry, we can make the nine o'clock train to Sector Three," Reeve informs me as I guide the trembling Elmyra into the open streets at a mild jog and herd an excited Marlene along behind her. That's the problem with civilians. They never know just how much danger they are in until it's too late.

"I don't care how you do it Reeve. Just get us the hell on that train before that woman decides to use us for target practice!" I hear the shouts of the infantrymen as they comb the area around the house for any trace of us.

I don't want these two to have to die because of us. I want them to survive.

The train station is quiet, everyone having boarded already for the most part. Reeve flashes his badge to the conductor and briefly explains that he is on official Shinra business. Whatever pull he has, it works, and we are allowed passage to the upper plates, no questions asked.

As the train pulls away from the station, I cannot help but feel some sense of pity for the two people we've kidnapped. One has no idea what Shinra is capable of. The other is terrified of us. I just hope we're doing the right thing.


	25. Standing Watch

**Okay. The Muse must yet again apologize for taking so darned long to get this written and posted. She's been super busy with farm work lately, as well as just plain lazy in general, and that leaves little time for fan fiction. The good news is, she's got the garden and stuff planted, weeded, watered, and ready to go for the season. Even better news - she can now spend her free time (a whole whopping three hours a week) writing more fun fan fiction for ya'll to enjoy. : ) That said (not that anyone really cares too much) :P I want to say thank you everyone for being patient with me and hopefully we can get this fic moving again in a more timely manner! Enjoy this short chapter that was written on the fly folks and hopefully you wont have to wait that long again for an update. **

**Chapter Twenty Five – Standing Watch**

Forget the proverbial chicken coop. I've been thrown into a den of rattlesnakes. Every shadow beyond the blinds of the window could be a sniper waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. Every creak of the boards could be a soldier ready to ambush us. For two long days it's been like this around here.

Not that I should be the one unnerved too much by the circumstances. It is a well known fact that former watchdogs have such tough hides that a few rattlers on the premises really don't mean all that much anymore. Should one of Scarlet's men bite, I'll simply bite back. It's common logic really. The only problem is that whatever logic I once had even a fraction of some pull over has gone out the window along with any and all hopes of getting out of this situation alive.

It's as though Tseng is trying to drive me back across the fence even though he knows the very concept is impossible. I just don't fit into that world anymore. I'm not certain that I ever did. And yet, here I am, wearing my old uniform, doing my old job, obedient as I've always been. I hate this. I really do.

I kidnapped a child. There are few things lower than that.

I kidnapped her to protect her, I try to convince myself. I did this to protect her. I may be the only one who _can _protect her from Scarlet and Shinra. A washed up, disobedient, _useless _watchdog. That's all I am. And yet, at this very second, I am charged with defending the most important bargaining chips in the world.

"You're still up?"

I glance away from the laptop's screen to acknowledge the presence of Elmyra wandering around my apartment with this hint of well gravitated uneasiness about her. "I always work late like this."

She remains silent for a few seconds before finally deciding to take a seat at the table I've declared as my desk for the time being. "What do you intend on doing to us?"

"I don't know." And for once, it is the truth. I really don't know what Tseng wanted the child currently curled up and sleeping on the couch for. I'm even less certain of what he will do to Elmyra when he discovers that I've gone ahead and taken her hostage as well.

"I've never seen you around before." Is all she says, no doubt trying to get over her uneasiness at being in such close proximity of a deadly albeit former Turk.

I've damn near scared the poor woman half to death already with my reckless actions and ability to establish myself as a rather capable Turk with a vendetta to settle. It's none of her concern that this particular vendetta is directly against Shinra Corporation and not her and the innocent little girl we've kidnapped.

With a sigh, I click the laptop closed. "There are quite a few of us you've never met. For the most part, if we are not needed in Sector Five, we stay out of it altogether."

"Who was that woman we were running from?"

She asks too many questions.

"If you must know, her name is Scarlet, head of Weapons Research. I'd tell you a few more appropriate names to call her by, but there is a child present. All you need to know is that she has neither Marlene's nor your own best interests in mind."

"And the Turks do?"

With the amount of times this woman has been lied to and harassed by the Turks, I kind of sympathize with her about not trusting us. After all, Tseng hunting Aerith had to do quite the number on her nerves over the years. I wander over to the kitchen and put the teakettle on. I cannot effectively protect them if they do not trust me even a fraction of a little bit.

"Listen, at the moment, that witch of a woman has the military combing this city from top to bottom for that child. I don't know the specifics of why, though I might have an idea, but I do know that if she gets either one of you, she will torture and kill you in manners you cannot even begin to imagine. You don't have a choice but to trust us in the matter."

It's the truth. I do not even want to imagine a child in Scarlet's grasp. I can see why Tseng might have given me this assignment. If his goal was to motivate me to try a little bit harder, he's doing a damn good job.

Elmyra looks at me as I pour the water into two small mugs and place the teabags in each. I place the cup upon the table and take my seat across from her, noticing that she keeps looking at Rekka where it sits by the door within easy reach should I need it.

"Have you-" she averts her eyes fearfully as her voice drops to a whisper. "Killed anyone?"

"Yes." I sip the tea, finding it more bitter than usual. "It's what I've been trained to do."

What I've been trained to do. The words sting. Shinra made me into a trained killing machine and look where it got me. Elmyra appears unphased by the answer.

"Marlene seems to have taken a shine to you."

"She's an intelligent child," I reply, not really feeling up to the details. "She doesn't understand the situation though. About her father's involvement with Scarlet-"

The PHS shrills, startling me and almost making me drop the cup of tea all over the laptop. It's two in the morning. What possibly be could- I recognize the number before I can finish the thought. On no.

"I gotta take this." I retrieve the phone and head out into the hallway for some privacy.

"Cissnei." Tseng's voice sounds haggard, as usual. No doubt Scarlet is driving him up a wall and then some over the latest fiasco. And judging by the fact that Reeve's been missing in action since we arrived here, I'd say she's after everyone she can get her claws on. "I need the girl."

"What do you want with her?" I dare to inquire, that dangerous confidence that branded me as the fox taking control. Of all times Jessie decides to finally grow a backbone she has to do it tonight.

"Don't get smart with me," he warns. "Reeve explained what happened. You cut it close this time."

"Well it wasn't as though I had much of a choice now did I? You never told me there was a verbal truce in affect that specifically stated we wouldn't be kidnapping that child because of Aerith. We were fortunate to get as far as we did given the circumstances."

"We'll deal with it as soon as the opportunity arises. Now. As for the child-"

"Wait a second Tseng," I cannot help but feel as though I am about to tussle with the head watchdog yet again in a fight I really don't need tonight. "What do you intend on doing to her."

"That is none of your concern."

"It is every bit my concern."

He sighs, no doubt irritated with my prying inquiries. It is my right to know what becomes of the hostages I was forced to take against my will. I think he owes me at least that much.

"It involves AVALANCHE. They've strayed from the path and it is time we give them a gentle reminder of who they are dealing with. I'll be there in half of an hour with Reeve."

I'm not liking his tone too much. He's going to use her to teach AVALANCHE a lesson. That is definitely something that does not sit well with either Cissnei or Jessie. You employ Turks to do that, not children.

"Tseng-"

"Do not make me have to remind you who you work for Cissnei. The more cooperative you are regarding the situation, the better off everyone will be."

I flip the PHS closed and lean against the wall. I have a bad feeling about this.


	26. Battle of Wills

**Okay, so the Muse is trying to motivate herself and is currently experimenting with shorter, more action-packed chapters at the moment. With any luck that will motivate me to actually update the fic on a semi-regular basis and allow for you readers to be at least somewhat entertained in a timely manner. Give the poor Muse some slack, she's been horribly busy lately and that combined with being unmotivated, well you know the drill. Hopefully this little experimental length thing doesn't take away from the fic. Enjoy this rather short chapter none-the-less folks. **

**Chapter Twenty Six - Battle of Wills**

It is one thing to say you intend on using a five year old child to blackmail a terrorist organization into doing what you want. It is a complete other thing to actually go through with it in a successful manner.

Such is the problem Tseng encountered the moment he and Reeve stepped through the door minutes ago.

Like a good watchdog, I choose to watch from my vantage point by the table as he regards Elmyra with a subtle look caught somewhere between confusion and utter loathing. I can only imagine the sort of relationship those two have had over the years, as she is regarding him with equal distaste, if not outright fear. No doubt she knows what he is capable of when he comes to retrieve a piece of property for the higher ups.

"Mrs. Gainsborough," he acknowledges her presence in a forced hint of politeness. Yeah. Even the most temperate watchdogs pretend to be nice before they strike.

"Tseng." She steps in front of the semi-awake child who regards him through sleepy eyes, no doubt puzzled by his presence. "What do you want with her."

"It is a business matter that is none of your concern."

Elmyra backs away, still keeping that motherly protectiveness about her as she guides Marlene off of the couch and farther away from the man. "What have you done to Aerith."

"Again, I cannot tell you that. Now. The child is needed at Shinra Headquarters."

Marlene, somewhat more awake by the raised voices, cowers behind Elmyra, regarding Tseng with the timidness of a small mouse caught by a tom cat.

"You're a bad man. You took the Flower Lady!" she squeaks in a small whisper of uncertainty. Elmyra trembles in fear as Tseng takes a step closer.

"Do not make me have to do this the hard way." There is the brief motion of him reaching for his weapon. _Shinra Headquarters_…The watchdog and mutt in me both reach a joint conclusion.

I grab the pistol off of the table and raise it level with his chest, placing myself between the pair of hostages and the man who will no doubt kill one to get the other. "I can't let you do that."

Reeve stares in horror at the turn of events, neither of us budging from our spot. Elmyra grabs Marlene and draws her out of firing range. It's not as though she has a lot of room to work with. In less than two seconds, Tseng could shoot both her and the girl.

I hold the pistol level with my former boss, finger on the trigger. "You hurt her and I swear to god I'll shoot."

He allows a hint of a smirk at the words, slightly more intimidating than I recall him ever being. "Your confidence far outweighs your common sense."

"Yeah, maybe so, but I'm not exactly on your side anymore, remember?" The terrorist in me bids me to fire that fatal shot and end this stalemate for good. The Turk in me prevents me from pulling the trigger. It's become a battle of wills, with both sides locked in their own stalemate. If I fire this weapon, he'll take me down with him. It is a losing battle no matter which side fires first.

"You're interfering with an important operation."

"I don't see it that way." And I don't. The only operation I'm interfering with is this madness of a wild goose chase that has caught Shinra at the most inconvenient of times. Tseng knows it. I know it. Hell, even though they have no clue what is going on, Elmyra and Marlene have to have some semblance of an idea that something is amiss.

I have a bad feeling about this keystone Shinra seeks.

"You're too stubborn for your own good." A slight flinch of his wrist makes something deep inside me snap. Covering the space between us in less time than it takes for the echo of the pistol being discharged to register in my mind, I drive my elbow against his sternum harder than I anticipate and catch his dominate firing arm against mine. The bullet buries into the wall in a shower of splinters. Elmyra screams as Tseng collapses to the ground as I swing my leg around and catch him behind the knee.

Pistol trained upon him, I kick his weapon out of range, adrenaline taking over at the realization of what I have done. More importantly, I'm not terribly certain just _how _I managed it without getting shot.

Reeve rushes to Marlene and Elmyra's sides, taking up a protective stance with his own pistol drawn upon the two of us. With his aim he won't fire. I know that for a fact. His hands are shaking too much.

Tseng regards me with a look I've rarely, if ever, seen him use. It is a look of subtle respect, no doubt the fact that he's at a clear disadvantage now in my favor. I managed to merely wind him, but that's nothing compared to the wound I've inflicted to his pride. Neither Jessie nor Cissnei are in the mood to put up with this today and he knows that I am not above pulling this trigger, no matter how much respect I have for the man.

"You've improved."

"I didn't live this long by not adapting to the situation." Against my better judgment, I step out of range, allowing him to retrieve his weapon. "You'll get your damn keystone."

He places the pistol back in its holster, a tense, albeit terrifying reality of how close I came to being killed written on the faces of the three who witnessed the exchange.

"Very well. I'll hold you to your word. But Cissnei-" He gestures to Reeve and the door, a silent beckon of retreat and almost casually regards me with that sense of irritated malice that reminds me of where I rank in this whole operation. "If by chance that keystone is not in my hands before tomorrow evening, you can expect a friendly visit from Scarlet and her men. You already know your odds against them."

I lower the weapon as the door closes, not even daring to meet the eyes of the pair of hostages who have seen what I really am. It is my job to protect them. I intend to do so no matter how much my own life is placed on the line. Shinra will get their keystone. I'll see to it.


	27. Keystone

**Ugh. The Muse apologizes for this being so darn late, as usual. She's been a super busy Muse lately, with summer being here and all. Hopefully, I'll be getting this fic updated on a more timely basis (I'm hoping for once a week, but that's likely to become every two weeks at the latest.) Don't worry, I'll try to make the two week updates longer and action packed to tide ya'll over until the next updates. ;) And I want to say once again to everyone for their patience and encouraging reviews, thank you. That includes all anonymous reviewers too (I'd reply with a personalized thank you, Goose, but the site doesn't work that way.) I really do appreciate it. Now, my usual rambling and stuff aside, I hope ya'll enjoy this nice long update folks! **

**Chapter Twenty Seven - Keystone**

It's been raining since seven o'clock this morning. The click of raindrops splashing against the fractured frosted glass beyond the heavy, tattered curtains and privacy blinds echoes across the near silent apartment in a constant, somber rhythm. It's cold. Far too cold today. The way the chill creeps across the floorboards and through the paper-thin walls makes me draw my blazer tighter around my shoulders in a vain effort to chase the uncomfortable feeling from my bones.

My shoulder and leg aches with the winter weather beyond that faceless window to the outside world. I know for a fact that is it not snowing, or even sleeting for that matter. I wish it would though. It feels appropriate at this point.

I committed the cardinal sin of all sins a Turk can commit - I attacked Tseng. It does not get much worse than that. I know I should be feeling something over this - guilt maybe? I wish I could. I'd give anything to feel something, anything over what I've done.

I've become what I feared all along - a monster. That's what I am. A true human would not have attacked in the manner I chose.

I'm not sure what's worse, the fact that I did it behaving like a Turk. Or the fact that I actually took down Tseng. Either way I've damned myself royally. I can't afford to screw up this mission. While I'm confident I _could _get the hell out of this alive, it's not myself I'm worried about.

It's the pair I did this for.

Whatever fragile confidence or trust I once had with those two is all but completely gone at this point. Elmyra won't even let Marlene within a ten foot radius of me, for fear I might decide to kill either one of them. I can't blame her. I can't even explain what happened back there. I don't even trust myself now.

All I know is that I did what I did, and there's going to be hell to pay later.

The sound of footsteps across the rickety floorboards reaches my ears, but I make no motion to openly acknowledge it. I'm not interested in explaining myself to these people. They would not understand even a fraction of what it is I've had to put up with.

Elmyra halts at the edge of what I've deemed to be the makeshift kitchen, studying me with this sort of wisdom about her. I continue to stare at the blocked window just for spite. Go ahead. Keep staring. I might do a trick or something.

"Can I speak to you about something?" she inquires, somewhat bolder than before.

"There is nothing to say."

"I need to ask you something, it's about Marlene."

I glance over at the sleeping child who does not realize just how close she came to death last night. "I'm the wrong person to ask."

"Is there a place we can speak, away from her?"

I merely point to the hallway, dreading where this is going. I'm letting myself be pushed around by a widowed housewife of all people. Better get this over with before it becomes one of those 'pry into my personal life with the same thrill of a murder mystery' sort of things.

With I sigh, I lead the way into the hallway and shut the door quietly behind us. "Look. I've got nothing to say."

"I need to ask you, about Tseng."

"He would have killed you, taken the girl, and when he was finished with her, he would have killed her too. That is what was about to happen." I mutter and lean against the wall, not meeting her eyes.

"Why did you do that?"

"Bloodstains are a bitch to get out of wood."

"You don't mean that." Way to call my bluff. Apparently you're not a dense as I would have pegged you to be.

"Maybe I did. Have you ever had to clean up a murder scene?" Some of the things I have seen over the years would make even the most hardened of people sick. Burying Zack's body was more than enough to do me in. No one should ever have to see that, let alone a child.

"Well, no, I-"

"Listen, Elmyra," I warn. "You would be wise to mind your own business when it comes to matters amongst Turks. Just because I was able to stop Tseng from killing you does not mean that we are on even ground to discuss personal matters."

She remains silent for several seconds, as though picking her words with extreme caution. "What Tseng said to you. Was he-"

"Serious? Yes. He would have shot me for getting in his way."

"But you're one of his people."

"Former," I correct against my best judgment. I cannot believe I am about to do this. "I _was _one of his people. A watchdog who no longer obeys her master is useless to keep around."

She averts her eyes. "You would have killed him then?"

"If the situation required it, then yes, I would have pulled the trigger. There are very few alliances amongst enemies. Even fewer amongst Turks. Tseng and I are not on the same side anymore, thus it has become more of a territorial squabble for control of the situation."

"You were not going to step between us, were you?" she dares to ask, somewhat disheartened.

"No. Had it been my choice as a Turk, I would have stepped aside. But-" I remove the pistol from the holster and examine it. "A Turk did not make that decision. It was a friend keeping an unwritten promise that did."

"What about that man who was with him? Would he have done anything?"

I cannot help but be slightly amused at the thought of Reeve stepping into a battle of two prolific watchdogs at each others' throats. "Reeve couldn't hit the broad side of a barn if it was right in front of him. He wouldn't shoot his best friend. And he's too damn gentle to shoot someone like me. Engineers make poor marksmen under pressure."

"If you're not on his side, then why-"

"At the moment consider yourself fortunate I'm even bothering to help you at all. Had you two not been involved, I'd be well on my way out of Midgar by now. I'm not exactly Shinar's 'favorite' stray at the moment and if Scarlet finds this place, we haven't a snowball's chance in hell of surviving the encounter. I owe Tseng a great deal for what he's done for me so far, and I'm obligated to find what it is he seeks, even if we fought."

"A keystone?"

"Precisely. Don't look at me like that. I don't know what I'm supposed to be obtaining either, let alone how to do it, but one way or another, I'm going to find a way to somehow give Tseng what he wants in the next twelve hours or we're all going to end up killed."

The creak of wood ricochets through the hallway and I instinctively hold the pistol level with whomever is climbing the rickety stairs at this hour. Elmyra shies away as the shadow approaches, his footfalls stumbling slightly upon the next to top step. I lower the weapon at his soft curse of annoyance and regard him in irritated silence.

"Ah, Cissnei, just the person I was looking for."

"You're out of your way, Reeve. Don't you have blueprints to read or something?"

He halts, half offended by the remark. What? I haven't slept well. It's early. I'm cranky. I damn near killed both myself and my former boss already today. I've just about done all but spill my entire life story to this woman who insists on prying into my personal life. In twelve hours I'm probably going to be facing ten thousand Shinra MPs and their sadistic handler on my own. And he expects me to be remotely pleased to see _him_?

"All right," he holds his hands up to show he is not armed at the moment. "Tseng's not with me this morning. He left for Corel Territory some time ago. I need to discuss something important with you."

I holster the pistol and gesture for Elmyra to head back into the apartment so Reeve and I can 'talk.' "You know how these things usually end, Reeve."

"I think we might be able to reach a mutual agreement this time, without anyone getting attacked."

"By mutual, am I correct in assuming you mean Tseng and you, while I merely agree to sell my soul again? You know you'll be screwed if the devil ever comes to collect that, right?"

Reeve raises an eyebrow at the sarcastic remark and sighs. "You're in luck then. Tseng specifically wants your input in making this particular mission a success with minimal casualties."

Minimal casualties. Just what I want to hear right now. I thought that was the idea to begin with. Apparently not so. "I've heard that before, Reeve."

"This time he's serious. You caught him off guard, Cissnei. He does not take that lightly."

"He had it coming to him. He knows better than to underestimate his former subordinates."

"I doubt he will make the same mistake twice. That is why I am hoping this matter can be resolved in a diplomatic manner."

"Three minutes," I respond. "That's all you have to convince me of whatever plan you've managed to draft up."

He smiles, a slight gesture that shows he is at least pleased to get this far. He shouldn't take it for granted. I've been known to change my mind in less time than that. "Actually, I think I'd rather show you what I'm talking about."

He enters the apartment and heads towards the table, not even bothering to acknowledge Elmyra, who has taken it upon herself to attempt to cook something edible for breakfast. I wish her the best of luck, as I believe all that is left in the cupboard is ramen, as usual.

Reeve opens the laptop and quickly accesses the files he needs regarding Cait Sith. "You can thank Reno for keeping Tseng off of your back for a while. He was the one who called Tseng with good news a short time after we left here about AVALANCHE's whereabouts."

Reno? Oh dear. I can only imagine what he's done now.

"Apparently, Reno took it upon himself to trail AVALANCHE after they encountered one another in Wutai. They're headed for the Golden Saucer to try to obtain the keystone from Dio."

"So? They want this keystone, let them have it. Less work the Turks would have to do that way."

"You know Shinra. They have to be the ones who get there first. Scarlet's impatient, and she's got Rufus on her side. She can't resist an opportunity to pick at Wallace and his group."

Boy, that's the understatement of the century, Reeve. "I get the feeling this keystone is a bad idea."

"You're not the only one. Tseng's leery of it as well, and although he doesn't outright show it, he's a little rattled by the enthusiasm of Shinra's Science and Weapon's Research Departments to get their claws on it."

Probably because they'll use him to set off all of the booby traps involved with it. Either way, Heidegger's setting him up to fall royally. And there is not a whole lot I can do about it aside from try to warn him.

"They're going to kill him, you know."

Reeve looks away from the screen in mild surprise. "Excuse me?"

"You're in with the higher ups a lot more than Tseng," I take a proverbial swipe at him, watching as he manipulates Cait Sith into action from its Artificial Intelligence mode. "Tell me what they think is going to happen once they get this keystone of theirs and the Turks become next to useless."

He obviously has not put a whole lot of thought into this, judging by the look he is giving me. "I honestly don't know."

"I suggest you find out then. From the looks of it, if AVALANCHE may no longer be needed per se, what hope in hell do you think an engineer might have?"

He is quiet for a change and I've no doubt grazed a nerve. But it is a legitimate question he really needs to consider. Well, if he didn't have something to think about for the rest of the day, he does now.

"It is my hope that we can still keep AVALANCHE in our corner and on Shinra's trail, even after we get the keystone from them. At least until we obtain all of the information and figure out what to do with it."

I reach down and casually interrupt his uploading of files from the disk before the robotic cat can be fully activated for the day. "No one will be doing much of anything if you don't starting being more careful with that thing. Scarlet's got the wires tapped and Cait Sith is one of them, surely you already knew of course."

Again, he's not amused, if not even a little bit embarrassed by the blatant stating of the obvious. I intend on surviving another day thank you very much, and the last thing I need is a direct trace to this computer. That's the quickest way to die.

"I would start thinking about what you're going to tell whichever member of AVALANCHE you manage to steal the keystone from so that they do not destroy your precious robot and all chances of following them. From past experiences, I suggest you work on your acting skills a little bit while I get rid of the trace on this thing."

"What about the girl?" he asks, both of us focusing on the slumbering child.

"I'll handle her. You focus on this keystone of yours."

It takes more than three hours of preparation before Cait Sith is fully debugged and ready to be employed to do as Reeve commands. Don't ask me how he got it so screwed up, it's not my robot. I'm just the hacker. Regardless, I finish typing in the final codes, watching as the entire tech grid of more than forty of Shinra's less than skilled watchmen find themselves listening into static for the next hour and a half.

"Aunt Jessie was good with computers."

"Really now?" I take a seat beside the child, keeping an eye out for Elmyra, who has taken it upon herself to try to stay as far out of range as humanly possible while Reeve and I work. I've already assured her that Marlene will not be harmed during this mission. In fact, knowing my luck, the kid will probably enjoy every second of it.

"Yeah," Marlene points to the screen with a beaming smile. "Daddy stopped saying bad words at it when she played with it."

Reeve stifles a laugh and continues reading his maps of the Golden Saucer innocently. Holy knows what's going through that mind of his.

"Uncle Biggs said Aunt Jessie kept us safe with the computer," she continues to look at me with questionable eyes. "Are you gonna do the same thing she did?"

"Yes," I reply, finishing up the final touches and moving the computer towards Reeve so that he can do his thing with Cait Sith. "But Reeve is going to help me a bit."

"Is the bad man gonna come back?"

I catch Reeve looking at me with pity. No doubt the idea of a Turk interacting with a child is strange to him. "He won't take you away. I won't let him."

"The bad man took the Flower Lady. He was mean and yelled a lot. He yelled at you too," she crosses her little arms adamantly. "I don't like him."

"Well, if I can help it, he won't yell at us again like that. The grownups will settle things quietly."

"Good. But it isn't nice to hit each other."

I'm being lectured by a five year old and for the moment, envy Reeve. I see his shoulder shaking in amusement over there.

"Sometimes, grownups tend to get a little bit out of hand and don't always think before they act."

"Aunt Tifa and Aunt Jessie used to fight over Mr. Cloud Man. Uncle Biggs liked Aunt Jessie though. Uncle Wedge always said they made a good couple."

At this, I noticeably flinch, the memory hard to face. Both Elmyra and Reeve are looking at me now. No doubt I'll be fielding questions until no end later.

Wedge. Biggs. I miss them terribly. I hope they can see what AVALANCHE is doing from wherever they are.

I should be there with them, but I am not. I am stuck here, back where I started and longing for a purpose once again. It is cruel how Fate regards those who dare to challenge it. The cruelest of the entities.

"They never came back," she averts her eyes sadly. "Aunt Jessie promised they would come back. But they never did. Aunt Tifa said they were doing important stuff keeping us safe. Daddy cried."

She clutches my blazer tearfully. "Why didn't they come home? Why did the bad man take them away?"

"T-they wanted to come back," I wrap my arms around her in a comforting hug as she buries her face into my shoulder, sobbing uncontrollably. I flinch at the wounds wrought about by the memories, the broken promises that will haunt me until I die. This is Jessie's battle to fight now. Cissnei can do little but watch it unfold. "They tried to. They really did. But sometimes, grownups have to make difficult choices to keep the people they care about safe."

"But they promised!"

"Marlene-" Elmyra steps forward in an effort to prevent an all out tantrum by the child. It's not her fault this happened. It's mine.

"They said they'd come home!"

"Listen," I try to regain control of the situation, feeling much older than I am. Must be the weather. "You have to try to be brave for them okay? They're out chasing monsters so that you and your papa can be safe. It's a really important grown up job, but they like doing it because they know you're alive."

She wipes the back of her sleeve across her eyes, still sobbing. "Daddy said it was important. But why did he cry?"

"Because he's proud of them," I whisper. He damn well better be. Biggs and Wedge tried their damnedest to keep that pillar standing. We all did. "He wishes they could come home too, but knows they can't."

"Are you gonna leave us too?"

"No," I respond, a sense of hostile determination ravaging my soul. "I promise I'm not going to leave you. Reeve and I are going to help keep both you and your papa safe now. But we're going to need your help."

She appears to brighten up a little bit at the idea of being needed in some important grown up stuff. I point towards Reeve. "Mr. Tuesti has a really cool robot he's using to find something really important that will keep the bad man away from here. He's going to need your help."

"Yes," he replies and continues to watch his screen, no doubt having found what he is looking for. "And I could use your help right about now."

I glance over his shoulder, watching as the giant stuffed moomba navigates around the Gold Saucer, the thunderous echo of pursuers growing stronger by the second.

"_Hey!" _I hear Aerith shout. _"Give that back!" _

"It seems I've become a popular person all of a sudden," Reeve grins and sends Cait Sith down another long section I recognize as the battle arena where AVALANCHE had been framed weeks before. "Guess that's what I get for setting up the perfect crime."

"Yeah, well it won't take him long to call reinforcements." I point to the left of the screen where one can just barely see Tifa and what appears to be this Yuffie character moving in to help. I cannot doubt that Barret and the boys are somewhere in the wings, having been alerted to the situation by now.

Reeve checks his watch and steers Cait Sith towards the chocobo races quickly. "Think they're upset it's gone?"

"I'm not going to justify that with an answer right now, Reeve."

"What's going on?" Marlene glances up at the monitor, watching Reeve steer his robot. It's not a very big stone, this keystone of theirs. Just a plain, what appears to be some form of polished jade, run of the mill gemstone.

"Grownup stuff," I reply, watching as the image of a helicopter graces Cait Sith's field of vision. And that would be Tseng, right on time.

"_Hey! I've got the keystone!" _I hear the robotic cat shriek as Reeve inputs the commands quickly.

"_Well done." _A part of me wishes that AVALANCHE would hurry the hell up and deal with Cait Sith right now before the keystone exchanges hands. Why exactly am I needed again? It's not like Tseng and Reeve couldn't have done this on their own. I mean, I haven't even done anything productive aside from debug the robot. I didn't even help bring AVALANCHE under lockdown or tamper with surveillance equipment.

"_Damn it!" _I hear Cloud shout and the echo of footsteps draws to an abrupt halt, several familiar faces surrounding the robotic cat with every intention of destroying it.

"_What nerve!" _

"_Whoa! Wait a second-"_

"Well, this isn't going too well," Reeve whispers, watching the angry group descend upon his robot.

"You expected it to? No offense Reeve, but I think you're going to need a new robot before this is over."

"This is why I need you," he replies. "We're going to implement the second half of the plan to keep AVALANCHE under radar."

"_Who in the hell are you?" _Cloud points his sword at the robotic cat, a rather menacing sight, I momentarily consider sending Marlene out of the room for. She really doesn't need to see Cloud this bloodthirsty right now.

Reeve cracks his knuckles and gets to work.

"_Yes, I am a spy, hired by Shinra."_

There a collective gasp several of the group, the most noticeably hurt appearing to be Aerith. Way to go Tseng. Brownie points we are not earning today.

"_And to think I trusted you!" _

"_I couldn't be helped," _Cait Sith replies as if nothing has happened today. _"You had an important item that was needed post haste. Now how about we all just continue along as though nothing has happened."_

"_No way in hell cat! You gotta lot of guts acting like a friend and then betraying us like this!"_

"_Oh? And just what are you going to do about it? Kill me?" _

I cannot help but feel that Reeve is somehow feeling smug about all of this. Guess this is the closest thing to fun he gets to have being locked up with his drawings all day. I can only imagine what he does when they're traveling as a main group half of the time.

"_That can be arranged,"_ Cloud threatens, Tifa and Aerith moving in for the kill.

"_You'd just be wasting your time," _he snips. _"This body is just a toy anyway. The real me is back at Shinra Headquarters, in Midgar. You'd be surprised what you can do with a remote control nowadays."_

Aerith glares at him and for a moment I'm surprised she just doesn't fry him where he stands. _"You're from Shinra. Tell me who you are!"_

"_I can't tell you my name."_

"_Typical Shinra. This is going nowhere." _He raises the sword, serious about finishing this. Reeve frantically types in his codes and the robotic cat throws his tiny paws up in surrender.

"Any ideas, Cissnei?"

"I suggest you try reasoning with them before you ask for my advice. Personally, I'd probably destroy your robot too."

"_Whoa, calm down. Yes, I do work for Shinra. But, we're not entirely enemies." _

For once, Reeve sounds almost genuine in his dealings. Cloud, however, is still not convinced.

"_Why then?" _

"_It's your way of life," _he responds. _"You don't get paid. You don't even get praised or respected for risking your lives for what you believe in. It would be a royal shame for things to end this way."_

"_And so on, and so on." _

Yipes. Aerith isn't even going to budge for Reeve's not so fake lie. The engineer sighs, no doubt wishing in the back of his mind that this never would have happened.

"_He'll never tell us the truth. Once a spy. Always a spy. Come on. We're leaving, without him."_

"_I was afraid this would happen," _Reeve scowls and looks at the little girl patiently by his side, yet to fully see the screen. _"So I prepared a little something just in case." _

"All right Marlene." I step aside and motion towards the monitor, offering a chair to the child. "Reeve's gonna let you play with the robot for a little bit, okay? You might even get to see your papa."

Not that I can tell if Barret is amongst them. He's not. Just those who came running at the call. If Barret or Red XIII was there though, Cait would be toast already.

She climbs onto the chair excitedly. Reeve smiles and points out the people on the screen.

"Papa! Tifa!"

Immediately, I notice that Cloud draws his sword away and Tifa straightens up in shock.

Aerith raises an eyebrow, stunned. "That's Marlene."

Marlene smiles and points to the screen with the childish innocence rarely seen in Midgar. "It's the Flower Lady! Flower Lady!"

She looks at me in confusion. "They don't look to happy."

"Shhh. Just watch. Mr. Tuesti needs to have a very important conversation with them. But see, they're okay. And they know you're okay."

Reeve smiles and quietly types in the codes to cue Cait Sith into saying just what he has to. If only this child knew she was being held as a hostage.

"_I suggest you do as I say, or things could change."_

"_You're the lowest-" _

"_I never wanted it to come to this - using dirty tricks and taking hostages. But this is how it has to be. Tomorrow's the Temple of the Ancients. I'll tell you more later regarding its location. But I suggest we pretend nothing happened here tonight. Oh course, Shinra will get there first, but, that's life."_

Cloud mumbles something under his breath. _"We have no choice. We have to do what he says." _

Aerith crosses her arms across her chest in deep thought. _"I hope Marlene is alright. I wonder what they did to Mom." _

Reeve turns Cait Sith away, effectively leaving the screen blank as Marlene hurries over to Elmyra excitedly. Oh how I wish I could let them know that both of them are fine at the moment, but, it is a watchdog's duty to remain quiet and stick to the original plan.

I still cannot help but notice Elmyra's look of relief at seeing Aerith out of Hojo's laboratory.

"The Flower Lady is okay! Mr. Cloud Man's with her! And Aunt Tifa too!"

Well at least someone's happy about the turn of events. AVALANCHE certainly isn't.

"Well, at least we have them back in line for a little while."

There's a fine line between being in line and being completely under Shinra's control Reeve. A very fine line. And I'm not terribly happy about it.

He turns back to his computer and continues to monitor Cait Sith.

My PHS shrills about an hour later, catching me off guard.

"Tseng, it's really not a good time," I sigh, watching as Marlene and Elmyra discuss Aerith and Cloud.

"I'm pleased with today's performance, Cissnei. You've done well," he remarks, rather pleased with himself.

"Save you praise for someone who actually wants it. You got what you wanted. Thank Reeve, not me."

"I'm impressed you were able to use the girl in a nonviolent way to convince them to continue the chase. That is worthy of praise. I'll be in touch."

The line goes dead.

Why do I get this feeling that I've somehow damned the entire planet.


	28. Crashing Down

**Whoot! I got this update done much earlier than I thought I would this week. Must have been the funnel cake I bought at the local annual redneck festival I attended yesterday. Sweet foods do strange things to a Muse. : ) Hopefully this chapter lives up to standards and yes folks, we're finally making a break for it…next chapter…Anyway, enjoy this little important filler mission folks! **

**Chapter Twenty Eight - Crashing Down**

There once was a time when the watchdog on duty did not have to worry about every little sound around them. When a creak of the floorboards meant nothing but a fellow watchdog looking for a good place to spend some time. Danger was only as real as one made it and the scent of death was but a mere lingering scent about as common as mildew. It was something easily accepted, because each of us knew that it was the sole fault of whoever decided to get killed. We could take care of ourselves. It was something that was a requirement, an obligation even. Because if we couldn't defend ourselves, we could not defend the person we were assigned to protect.

Only, this time, it is not the arrogant Rufus Shinra I'm stuck protecting, but two people who actually warrant it. Blame it on the excitement of this afternoon's tasteful encounter with AVALANCHE. It took most of the night to get Marlene settled down enough to actually sleep, something that tired Elmyra out quicker than myself. And I'm the one who's just about managed a twenty four hour shift fretting over everything.

I really should be sleeping. It's the one time when I'm actually supposed to be. I completed my part of this mission - gave away something that will no doubt come back and bite me in the ass later. Such is the luck I have lately. But there's too much bothering me to allow me to actually sleep.

It got colder out again. The rough excuse for a blanket does little to stem the cold seeping through the floorboards I've designated as my own corner of the world. Trained like a dog, hiding out as a fox, living like a stray, might as well end up sleeping like one too. I sigh and turn over, my shoulder brushing the coffee table and sending a shockwave of pain through the stiff joint. Apparently, cold weather will never be kind to me again thanks to Sector Seven. Being somewhat sleep deprived doesn't help either. Guess I'm just getting old.

_Sector Seven_. I watch the faint light from the corridor spill through the cracks at the base of the door and for a moment, it reminds me of Seventh Heaven in some weird sort of way. Just the way that dull, flickering light filters across the floorboards to cast shadows from the meager furniture that makes this place somewhat of a home. I miss them. I'm too proud to admit it aloud, but I cannot help but wonder just what became of them. If they found peace? Do they know what Barret and the others are up to now?

Are they angry with me for what part I played in this whole fiasco? That I _survived _what should have been impossible? I sit up and watch the light in mild fascination. I've never been one to be easily amused by something so simple as a beam of light. That was always Reno's department. Still, something about it is comforting in a sense.

It's something _familiar_.

The shuffle of a body shifting position upon the couch stirs the air, drawing my attention. I draw the blanket around my shoulders and once again try to find a comfortable position upon the floor, so not to awaken either of the slumbering creatures on the couch.

I want this to be over soon. Lying awake at night, wondering just what that light outside the door could be. It's starting to wear on my nerves. I grasp Rekka and draw it closer. Old habits die hard.

A brief flash of light coupled with the soft hum of plastic sending small vibrations through the wood floods the room with its metallic embrace, startling me. I move my fingers over the coffee table with a low grumble of annoyance, trying to locate the silent ringing PHS through the darkness.

Flipping it open, I recognize the number immediately. Tseng? At this hour? I cast a brief look towards the woman and child I'm supposed to be protecting, keeping my voice low and cautious as I answer so not to wake them. "Hello?"

"_Cissnei?" _Reno's voice sounds strained, almost panicked. _"Thank god."_

Wait. Reno? This is Tseng's untraceable line. Since when does he have this number or Tseng's phone for that matter? I sit up from my position on the floor, phone to my ear and stare at the faceless walls, every nerve on edge to listen. "What's wrong?"

"'_Nei. Listen to me. Get the hell out of Midgar, now."_

At this, I cannot help but feel slightly offended and a little spooked. He sounds, what's the word for it, terrified of something. I toss the blanket aside and make my way to the makeshift kitchen, trying to wake myself completely up. Reno and terrified in the same sentence, now I'm worried. "Reno? What-"

"_Just get the hell out," _he pleads, the echo of chopper blades somewhere in the distance on his end. _"Something's happened. I can't tell you the details, but you need to get the hell out of there immediately."_

Get the hell out immediately? The phrase awakens my inner watchdog into full alert mode and the reality begins to sink in. Something has happened, but he won't tell me what it is. It doesn't sound good.

"Reno," I respond, stern and seeking answers. I need to know. "What happened?"

"_It's Tseng. He's-" _his voice cracks. _"He's been injured 'Nei. Elena and Rude are with him now doing what they can, but it doesn't look good."_

My blood runs cold and I slouch against the chair, every ounce of strength fleeing from my body. Oh god. God no this is not happening. "How?"

"_Sephiroth stabbed him through the chest with the Masamune_." I feel myself grow nauseous at the very thought of that sword taking down Tseng. Please let this be a horrific nightmare that's not real. Please. _"He's lost a lot of blood already. He's gonna die, 'Nei. AVALANCHE went tearing after the culprit a short while ago. I tried to contact Reeve, but-"_

"I'll contact him. You worry about Tseng," I assure him, my own confidence shattered. Tseng, leader of the most feared pack on the planet, slain by the katana of a phantom. I tremble at the thought, a tear escaping my eyes as I bow my head in defeat. What do I tell Reeve? Surely, he- he already knows. He'd have to know.

"_Promise me you'll get out of there tonight. If Tseng dies, you're the one Scarlet's going to pin this on. She'll kill you, 'Nei."_

Silence fills the air as I try to steady my breathing over the news. Cissnei's in absolute shock, the proverbial carpet having been jerked from beneath her and landing her flat on her back to face the foe, defenseless. Jessie remains haunted, no doubt uncertain of how to proceed. We're about to lose one of our own. _The _very pillar that has supported and sheltered our organized pack for so many years. The man who treated me more like a daughter than just another Turk.

I've never felt more useless than this very second.

"'_Nei?" _

"I won't let her, Reno." My trembling hand falls upon the loaded pistol beside the computer. "I'll make damn sure of it."

"_Be careful. I don't need to have to bury you next."_

The line goes dead, but I remain there, paralyzed with the realization that I really am on my own now. Whatever defenses I'd fought so hard to rebel against are now gone, replaced with that sense of dread that this is no dream. It really happened.

The price of freedom. It's a lot steeper than I imagined it might be.

I tuck the pistol back into its holster and place the laptop in its case, making certain I have everything in order. The less they know right now, the better. Gathering what little materia Reeve has left for me, I quietly outfit Rekka with the traditional ice element of Blizzaga I've mastered over the years. I cannot afford to be careless nor inexperienced this time. It's not my own life to throw away anymore.

And if Scarlet intends on coming to take it, she's going to be in for a hell of a fight. There are few creatures more dangerous than a Turk seeking vengeance and I shall stand my ground until my last breath. It is my honor as a member of Tseng's group to do so. I'll give that woman something to fear.

That is something not even Jessie can disagree with.

"Get up," I prod the slumbering widow awake. "We have to leave."

She rubs the sleep from her weary eyes, puzzled by the turn of events. "Cissnei?"

"Get Marlene. Make sure she's dressed warm. It's cold outside."

"What's wrong?" she inquires, softer and more composed than I would expect given the sudden change of events as she gathers the jacket Reeve left behind yesterday by accident. "You're trembling."

"Something I'd rather not discuss at the moment. Please, just get Marlene so we can leave."

Elmyra, for once, decides it is not her place to pry farther and slowly taps the young child upon the shoulder. When a Turk uproots the group from a reasonably safe location spur of the moment, there is usually good reason and failure to obey usually ends in a high probability of dying sooner or later. Marlene whines in protest, just as cranky as I remember her being. I hand Elmyra the spare blazer Reno loaned me some time back and she drapes it over the confused and still mostly drowsy child's shoulders.

"Don't ask where we're going. I'm not sure of that myself yet." I swing the laptop case's strap over my shoulder and keep Rekka within a death grip for my own reassurance. On my own. No one is coming to save my ass this time should something go wrong.

Yes. There was once a time when our pack was unrivaled and feared by all. When being a Turk meant so much more than doing grunt work for the backstabbing higher ups. Once, it meant something to wear this blazer and carry this weapon. But, in a single twist of fate, our strength was divided and now we're facing the one nightmare we don't know how to handle.

Please don't die, Tseng. I never got to tell you thank you for saving my life.


	29. Great Awakening

**Wow. For some oddball reason, the Muse sat down at her computer last night with her usual cup of coffee, was struck by an overload of inspiration, and stayed there until four in the morning hacking out not one, but TWO, whole chapters to this fic. The second one still needs a little bit of work, but you can probably expect it by the end of the week if all goes well. So grab a cup of coffee, sit back, and enjoy the ride folks. ;) **

**Chapter Twenty Nine - Great Awakening**

It is a long walk through the streets of Midgar at three seventeen in the morning. And cold. It's bitterly cold. I struggle to hide the light tremble as I hug my blazer closer to my body, my breath visible in the frosty morning air. From further back along the sidewalk, I notice Elmyra keeping Marlene close to her side, the child looking about in a mixture of wonder and fear at the towering buildings rimmed in the greenish hue of mako light.

She's never seen such a world as this. A place where vehicles speed by and splash stagnant water puddles across the slippery sidewalks before screeching to less than subtle halts at the intersections. Thankfully, at this hour, most of the civilians are either sleeping or at the bars drowning themselves in alcohol. Not that I can blame them. Hell, I think at this point, I would gladly join them if the circumstances were slightly better and I wasn't trying to stay one step ahead from the real hellhounds eager to rip me into a million little pieces.

We've less than three hours to get as far from Midgar as humanly possible before anyone realizes we're gone. Maybe less if Scarlet's already on the move. I'm not certain if the disturbing lack of Shinra MPs is a blessing or a curse. It's the not knowing where the hell they are that has me bothered.

Focus, my inner watchdog reminds me as I instinctively scout the nearest alleyway and glance at the street sign standing like a lone sentry at the quiet intersection. Quiet, in Midgar. It is rare indeed.

"Miss Cissnei?" Marlene tugs upon my blazer. I glance down at her, noting the look in her eyes. She's confused about this whole fiasco. No doubt wondering just why Elmyra is choosing to remain silent about tonight's events she doesn't even know the half of. "Where are we going?"

"On a little adventure," I respond, trying to keep my own concern in check. Handle it like a Turk, I remind myself. Remember you're here to protect them. It's okay to not tell them the true extent of the danger just yet.

"But it's past my bedtime," she responds. I glance at Elmyra, finding little I can use to aid me.

"Well, you see, this is one of those adventures where it's okay to be out past your bedtime."

"Really? But Aunt Tifa always said it was bad to stay up late."

No doubt because of the late night crowd and terrorist meetings in the basement. It would have really sucked for a child to witness those. "Well, if she ever asks, you can tell her that I said it was all right just this once."

"You're gonna get in trouble."

Oh, you don't know the half of it kid. If anyone found out anything about me, that most of my life is an elaborate lie, I'd be a dead woman. But rules are meant to be broken and tonight that concept is saving the three of us from a swing of Death's scythe. I gently guide the child down the nearest alleyway, seeking the little known footpath that parallels the train tracks to the slums.

Midgar's best kept secret, as Rod and Katana used to claim. Not even Tseng knows about this particular entrance to the slums. And I intend on keeping it that way if I can help it.

Elmyra glances at the train tracks in moderate surprise as I drag the child into the shadows and motion for her to follow. "Stay off of the tracks. In about half of an hour, the morning Sector Four line is going to come blasting through here and if you're close enough to the tracks, you'll be drawn in and crushed as it passes."

Playing chicken with trains is the last thing I really want to be doing this morning, but it can't be helped unfortunately. So, for the next fifteen minutes, the three of us pick our way through the shadows of the underground less than three feet away from instant death.

It's slightly warmer down here, the mako light splaying across the dirty underground and houses jammed together beside the piles of rubble and twisted steel. The world sure does look different from nearly fifty meters up.

"You sure do know your way around down here," Elmyra grasps Marlene by the hand and helps keep her from wandering onto the tracks as the makeshift path narrows to almost a catwalk of twisted cement beams and plates of uneven steel less than a foot across.

"I know a lot of things most people shouldn't know." I hop down to one of the horizontal cement support rails holding the tracks up and help Marlene and Elmyra enter the makeshift, narrow cement walkway beneath the tracks. A vicious vibration courses through the steel, making the widow cry out in surprise and drop to her knees, arms around Marlene in fright. I place a casual hand against the nearest support, dust shaking loose in a fine rain around us as the railcars thunder overhead in deafening succession.

I cannot help but shudder at the memory of the sound of crumbling steel as I close my eyes and wait for it to be over.

When it passes, I look towards the dusty segment of crumbling cement and motion to the city below. Ah yes, Sector Four. Quite the sight from up here. Unfortunately, Elmyra does not share my enthusiasm.

"You didn't say we would be that close to the train! Isn't there a safer way to go?" She continues to hug Marlene close to her and keeps her eyes closed as the dust settles.

Heh. These people have obviously never missed their train upon returning late from a mission and been forced to walk home in an effort to evade the almighty wrath of Commander Veld for being late to a mission briefing. She should know by now that I'm the type of watchdog who knows more than a few tricks. I grasp one of the iron platforms and survey the distance it drops off at. "If we're going to leave Midgar alive this morning, we have no other choice but to go this way. The security doesn't go this far under the tracks. If this is going to work, you're going to have to trust me."

Trust. The bane of all Turks. But unfortunately, I need their cooperation in this matter, as I'm the only one qualified to actually complete this particular type of mission on the fly like this.

And if I was still in the ranking, right about now I'd be meeting with the newly appointed leader of the pack, Reno, to discuss the fate of the Turks as his second in command. I hope Tseng survives. I'm not terribly certain Reno can handle the responsibly being dumped on his shoulders all at once.

It takes much convincing, but I finally convince Elmyra that I am not going to push her off of the cement beam, and convince her to allow me to show her the quickest way to the ground. I don't think I've ever seen a woman so happy to have both feet on solid ground and she continues to keep a death grip on Marlene, who seems to have found the whole experience exhilarating and is eagerly looking up at the train tracks and unstable platforms as though there is nothing greater on the planet.

"See," I casually take the lead, somewhat relieved to be back in familiar territory. "I didn't let anything happen to you two."

"Leaving Midgar-"

I halt at the uncertainty in her tone of voice and watch an early morning scrap collector skirt by en route to 'work.' "Think of it as the ultimate adventure. You probably won't ever have this opportunity again in your lifetime."

"But, we're hardly prepared to do any traveling."

Yeah? Your point is? I sigh and rest Rekka against a pile of steel beams for a better vantage point of the barrier in the far distance of Sector Five - our destination. "Then we find some way to make ourselves ready. I don't suppose you have anything of use still at your house would you?"

She looks at me, no doubt surprised that I would choose now of all moments to include her in the planning of the adventure across the wastelands beyond Midgar. "A few potions, maybe a phoenix down. But not much else."

"Do you have anything warmer than Reeve's jacket?" I inquire. If it's this cold in Midgar on the upper plate, the wastelands will be almost double that at night. She nods, the reality hitting. It's about damn time she starts to realize that I'm just not some insane moron who decided to uproot them for the hell of it. We're not coming back to Midgar.

"I'll see what I can scrounge up."

Ten minutes later finds the three of us standing at the shell of a house that at one time might have been a comforting home. A dark aura radiates from it, the broken windows dark with the hostility of a beast lurking within. The door hangs ajar, most of the flowers trampled beneath the boots of Scarlet and her entourage of MPs. The table is turned on its side, the chairs fractured and scattered amongst the broken glass of what might have been dishes at some point. Hell, I'm surprised Scarlet didn't just torch the damn place and be done with it.

Elmyra quivers slightly at the sight of her home in disarray and cautiously steps forward.

"Miss Elmyra," Marlene whispers. "Why is everything broken?"

The widow shakes her head at the devastation and I cannot help but wonder just how many memories will be left behind when we leave this cursed place. She is a lot stronger I could ever be under the circumstances.

"Let's hurry and go," I reply, colder than I intended it to be, but just as effective. For all we know, there could be soldiers waiting in the shadows to snipe at us for being here.

Elmyra nods and sifts through the remnants of her life, disappearing into the other room in search of whatever may be of some use to us.

"Miss Cissnei," Marlene stares at the rubble. "Why did the bad man do this?"

I kneel down until I'm eye level with the child, that nagging sense of intuitive worry renewed in the back of my mind. "I don't know, Marlene. I don't know why this happened."

Oh, I know why it happened all right. I'm just not about to terrify a five year old any more than I have to. Thankfully, Elmyra reappears a short while later and hands Marlene an ancient sweater with this somber look in her eyes. She wants to leave this place in the worst possible way and I cannot blame her for it.

I take the lead through the near vacant streets towards the barrier, abandoned at such an early hour. The scrap collectors bid us a passing glance, but say nothing. It is a common occurrence of those who wish to die down here. For beyond that break in the barrier is the quickest way to die. I clutch Rekka at my side and step under the metallic archway with a small semblance of arrogant pride at the foe before us.

There, stretching for hundreds of miles before us, brimming with darkness cast down by the thick blanket of mako tinged clouds above us are the wastelands.


	30. Fight and Flight

**Whoa. For some oddball reason, the Muse is seriously motivated to get stuff done on this fic and really moving things along. We seem to have fallen into a trap of inspiration and am taking full advantage of that to get this caught up and not leave ya'll hanging for too long. Who knows, you might even see a third, unprecedented update this week. ;) That said, I am actually proud of this particular chapter and I hope ya'll enjoy it. **

**Chapter Thirty - Fight and Flight**

Sparks dance through the air as the shuriken grazes my fingertips and shrills back through the air, catching the dark shadow and carrying it back into the darkness in a flash of ice and steel. I grasp the cold steel and wrench the weapon free from the beast's corpse, holding the pistol level with the swift shadows descending through the canyon as though they crawl forth from fractures in the barrier of Hades.

Their growls surround us through the darkness. Claws scratching over corroded stone fills the air, the ominous scent of musty, festering flesh sharp in the frigid morning air. A pair of jaws snaps dangerously close, molten eyes afire and trained upon us. I flinch as Elmyra presses her back against mine, keeping Marlene against her like an overprotective chocobo and trembling uncontrollably.

Shit. This is not what I was expecting to run into so soon. I hold Rekka level with the approaching beast, studying its movements as it jostles the others into a circling motion around us with a bark of fury. A howl splits the air to my right and I swing the shuriken, sweeping the beast onto its side upon the rocks below.

Elmyra screams as one of the wolfish beasts swings its claws and snaps its jaws through the air, missing her flesh by mere centimeters. I grasp the widow by the shoulder and place myself between both her, Marlene, and the Kalm Fangs moving in for the kill. We're going to be torn to pieces out here.

Materia. I feel the frigid twinge of the blizzaga react to my pleading thoughts, the shuriken glowing with a brilliant cerulean light as it streaks through the air and catches three of the mutated beings. I fire the pistol at one of the bolder ones.

The alpha. Got to find the alpha. I glance around at the pack riled at the change of events. Shit. All I've managed to do is piss them off.

Marlene screams as a large, thick-furred wolf bolts out of the pack, knocking her to the ground and nearly sending Elmyra collapsing into the awaiting pack.

"Cissnei!"

An animalist rage seizes my body, adrenaline burning my veins as I reach out and grasp the wolf before it can tear Marlene's throat out. Saliva drips along my hands as we crash against the rocks, blood mingling with the cold stone.

Damn it. I catch sight of the pistol lying useless beside Rekka, only brute strength keeping the alpha from killing the three of us. Several others howl and rush across the stones with jaws agape.

"The pistol!" I scream, kicking at the beast and feeling my arms tremble at its weight pinning me to the ground. Elmyra rushes forward and grabs the pistol, quivering uncontrollably as the beasts nip at them, feeding on their fear.

Come on. Shoot already! Fangs graze my upper arm, claws tearing at my shoulders. The alpha's hot, putrid breath makes me gag nauseously. I can't hold him at bay like this forever.

The gunshot fractures the air, the heavy weight of the beast pressing me against the sharp stones as he collapses, his eyes rolling back into his head with a long cry of agony. Blood rains down from its jaws and the others scatter at the sound. It's not a clean kill, but at this point, I'm just happy she didn't hit me instead of the wolf. Not bad for a housewife. I kick the beast off of me and seize Rekka, sending three others back to hell and watching the other four flee into the darkness.

Panting and flinching at the sting of the scratches in my flesh, I turn towards the two I'm supposed to be protecting and drop the shuriken in horror.

"Gods," I kneel down beside Marlene, who's trembling uncontrollably and clutching her hand, tears streaming down her face to mingle with the blood dripping upon the stone around her feet. I grab the blizzaga materia from my weapon and hold it closer to the wound for some semblance of light, praying that it's not half as bad as it looks.

"It hurts," she whimpers as I grasp her hand and gingerly prod the wound, watching the blood trickle against the pale flesh with faint flecks of some sort of golden matter in it, no doubt saliva from the beast's bite.

"Elmyra. Check our stores of remedies. See if you can find a potion. Maybe an antidote."

The woman stares at me in horror and rummages through our sparse supply. No, I'm not sure if they're poisonous. They never used to be as far as Reno and Rude were concerned. Hell. The MPs took some into captivity and crossbred them with Blood Tastes to produce some sort of pseudo Guard Hound at some point. But, with the levels of mako in this particular region…I can't promise their bite might not be lethal to a child of Marlene's stature.

Marlene looks at me through the dull light the blizzaga materia's casting, tears in her hazel eyes. "Am I gonna die?"

I gently hold her hand and continue to survey the extent of the damage, meeting her gaze with as much promise and confidence as I can manage. Truth be told, I'm not one hundred percent certain without seeing it under full light, which won't be for at least another hour.

"Cissnei, will this work?" Elmyra hands me a small vial with a small amount of opaque liquid sloshing around inside. I turn it over in my palm, allowing the light to catch the label along the side. Thank god.

"Hey." I pour the opaque liquid onto the wound and grasp her wrist forcefully as she reels back with a scream of pain. "You have to sit still, okay? I promise it won't hurt in a little bit."

She whimpers weakly and covers her eyes with her uninjured arm as I watch the antidote work its magic and slowly dissolve the Kalm Fang's saliva. Elmyra hands me a small strip of cloth and I quickly bind the wound, watching it for several seconds to ensure that the blood does not reach through its pale surface. Once we reach Kalm, we can have someone look at it and clean it better. "All finished."

She opens her eyes and flinches, staring at the bandage. From the looks of it, the alpha didn't get her anywhere else.

Elmyra kneels down to examine my work, her own eyes scrutinizing the fact that I didn't quite get away unscathed. "Cissnei-"

"I'm fine." A little scratch is nothing compared to what I've been through. I'll tend to it later, when we're out of Kalm Fang territory. "We need to keep moving."

We're wounded. Now anything within ten miles will be on us if we stop. I collect the pistol and return it to the holster and swing the laptop case across my shoulder. "With a little bit of practice, you could make one hell of a marksman, Mrs. Gainsborough."

She looks away in shame, no doubt disturbed by the fact that she took a creature's life this morning. Marlene yawns and points to the dull light of the horizon to the east. Looks like it will be officially morning soon.

Elmyra whispers softly and watches the veil of clouds longingly. "So, how much farther until Kalm?"

"A couple of hours, maybe a few days. I won't know until we get there." Personally, I'm pleased we made this much progress. Given the uneven landscape and the fact that one cannot see much farther than a few feet in front of their faces, the fact that we haven't wandered off of a cliff yet makes even this nothing short of a minor miracle. Although, if we run into anything more like that pack of Kalm Fangs, we're as good as dead.

The morning light spills drearily across the dark landscape, illuminating the jagged stone of rising cliffs and endless valleys where no vegetations dares to grow. Shinra's done all of this. Reactors sucking the life from the planet, leaving it as a barren landscape void of all life except those of mutations. The thought sickens me.

I wonder if Zack thought the same thing as he carried Cloud across these very miles.

_Zack…_I glance towards the horizon. He's out there, buried in an unmarked grave looking towards Sector Five. I look back towards Elmyra and Marlene, the realization horrifying at what could have happened this morning. These are the lands of the dead.

I kick aside a small stone, watching it topple down an embankment and land with a sharp click in a puddle of water from yesterday's rains. It's going to rain again today. I can feel it. Something flashes in the water, making me slow my pace for the two behind me to catch up momentarily.

"What's wrong?" Elmyra inquires. That's, odd. I grasp a jutting rock and climb down towards the stagnant water, kneeling at its edge. A faint series of ripples crosses its surface.

Several small stones rumble down the embankment and land in the puddle. Shit. I've seen this before.

_Sector Seven…_I scramble up the embankment and grasp Marlene by her uninjured hand, hauling her into the ditch and practically throwing her into the shadows of an alcove in the stone still unrevealed by the cresting morning light. I gesture for Elmyra to follow as the echo of chopper blades roars from the direction of Midgar and the vibration rattles through the shale like the beginnings of an earthquake.

Damn it all to hell. I toss the laptop case to Elmyra, throw Rekka to the ground, and quickly remove my blazer, covering the weapon to prevent it from reflecting the sunlight creeping towards our makeshift shelter.

"Why's everything shaking?" Marlene asks as a stone bounces by her shoulder with a loud click. I point towards the upper level of the canyon, where the beginnings of what appears to be a convoy of Shinra Military Transport Vehicles grinds along the uneven terrain, their headlights piercing the darkness like fiery demons in search of prey. Shit. I counted five of them. That's at least twenty four of Scarlet's men.

"Shhh. Be quiet and stay down."

The Blackhawk screams overhead, its brilliant light invading the crevices of the ditch, scouring its every contour in an agonizingly slow sweep. Please don't see us.

_Just like Zack…_

The thought sends shivers down my spine. We're being hunted. The butcher's hellhounds are coming for us and there won't be a damn thing I can do about it once they do.

_No, _Jessie snaps, the rebel in me stepping up to the plate to stand beside Cissnei for the first time in a long time. _Not like Zack._

"What are they going to do to us?"

"Trust me-" Imagines of Zack's broken body surface in my memory. Those lifeless eyes. God, this beautiful, innocent eyes, locked in death's embrace as they stared up at his murderers in defiance. "You do not want to experience it."

I grasp the pistol with both hands and watch the light spilling over the stones like molten lava.

_Wait, just a few more seconds. _I position myself closer to the wall with my shoulder turned towards the light, concealing the pistol from casting a flash for the helicopter to see. I'm only going to get one opportunity for this to work.

"Don't let Marlene see this," I whisper to Elmyra, watching the convoy creep closer to the elevated ridge above us. She nods and hugs the child closer, the rumbling reaching the same decibels as the train did back in Sector Four. Stones rain down around us. The puddle splashes in its prison of a natural basin. Wind stirred up by the chopper spins the air in a hailstorm of dust, creating a curtain of blinding debris. Perfect.

I lunge into the open, the light passing overhead and reflecting from the dust. Come on. A flash beckons from the upper ridge and I halt halfway up the embankment, legs splayed against the stones for traction as the wind whips through my hair and dust cloaks me. The pistol explodes violently as I pull the trigger, the recoil sending a mild shockwave through my wrists.

There is a violent screech of tires and breaking of glass. I can't hear anything but the roar of the chopper and screaming of fracturing stone. Sparks fly, the vehicle swerving and rolling in slow motion down the embankment, a sickening crunch as more squealing tires kick up dust in a mad storm of chaos. Stone shrapnel explodes upon impact, flames shooting into the sky before the chopper, forcing it back.

And I'm running. Running through the canyon with the heat radiating around me. Light scours everything, but I cannot see anything but debris and the wind screeching through this region. It's loud. Just like that night. Screams pierce my ears. Wails of pain and horror that die in a second and third explosion. Shockwaves tear through the area and I find myself praying as I am thrown into the puddle of water.

Clawing my way towards the alcove, I am met by a friendly hand drawing me back into the safe haven. Marlene is crying in terror as the earth shakes and roars, dark, acrid smoke billowing high into the air. Elmyra is clutching what appears to be a rosary, praying viciously as the flames consume everything in their path, snaring the vehicles.

And then the sound ebbs into the distance. I open my eyes and watch as the chopper banks a hard right and recedes back towards Midgar as though a falcon being recalled by its keeper. Keeping the pistol trained before me, I creep out of our makeshift shelter, collect my blazer and Rekka, and make my way through the ditch towards the flames and smoke.

Gods…I nearly vomit at the destruction I've caused with that single shot to the center vehicle in the convoy's driver's side. Three of the five transport vehicles rest on their sides and roofs, smoldering in the flames consuming them. The scent of burning gasoline permeates the air. The other two rest at odd angles, still atop of the embankment.

Elmyra gasps in shock, holding a hand over her mouth and trembling at the burnt bodies draped over the molten shell of the vehicles they had become entrapped within. I grit my teeth and continue onward, climbing the embankment and feeling the stone graze my fingertips.

_You're a monster. _I fight back the tears as I pick my way past three bodies and over to the closest vehicle, keeping the pistol trained upon the man slouched over the steering wheel. I don't even look at Marlene and I can only pray that Elmyra is somehow shielding her from this.

The body stirs slightly with a low groan, blood dripping from beneath his faceless helmet. He glances towards me and reaches for the pistol at his side. But I am quicker.

"I'm sorry." A single gunshot shatters the morning air as the sun breaches the horizon, filtering the first droplets of rain through the clouds in a low, haunting glow. I pry the dented door open and haul the body out from behind the driver's seat for the vultures to claim. Holstering the pistol, I climb behind the wheel and turn the key, listening as the engine struggles to turn over.

It takes a few tries, but finally gives a low shudder and rumbles to life. I point to the passenger side and set Rekka and our supplies behind the seat. "Get in."

It is an emotionless command with little room for argument and the woman guides Marlene towards the vehicle.

"What's going on? Can I open my eyes yet?"

Elmyra places her between us, still in shock as another explosion of flames tears into the sky. "No child. Not yet."

I slam the gearshift in reverse and glance over my shoulder as I navigate the vehicle out of the accident scene, managing to wrangle it back onto the intended course towards Kalm.


	31. Creature Comforts

**Well folks, I didn't quite get this posted when I wanted to so I went ahead and combined two chapters together to make up for the fact that I probably won't be around much this upcoming week. (The Muse got called away on some urgent business that will keep her away from the site most of the week and kinda sorta rushed the ending of this chapter.) So, hopefully you'll find this update enjoyable (use your imaginations a little bit folks) and hopefully you'll see much better updates fairly regularly once I get back! : ) **

**Chapter Thirty One - Creature Comforts**

A rough seven miles outside of Kalm, we abandon the battered and abused military vehicle and opt to make the remainder of our journey on foot. Elmyra remains quiet as I swing our supplies over my shoulder and take point, clutching Rekka and giving that false bravado that I am ready for everything and anything. We are fortunate to have made it this far. Damn fortunate.

It won't take Scarlet and the others long to figure out just what happened back there. Once word reaches her, there will be an investigation, no doubt the vehicle will be located and the fact that fugitives actually might have slipped out of her grasp will cause all holy hell to break loose. I'm banking on borrowed time that the Kalm Fangs will pick up the scent of blood and downright destroy the interior of that vehicle to make it look as though nothing escaped alive.

I watch the sun sink beneath the western horizon, casting its crimson light across the wastelands around us as though it is crying fiery tears over our actions this day. A chill wind rakes through the canyons and whistles through the alcoves of stone with the spreading darkness. These are the lands of the dead. There was no mercy when Zack was slaughtered.

No mercy whatsoever.

Rekka stings my flesh as the sharp, circular edge grazes my fingers, making me curse softly and watch the droplets of blood trek across the silver surface to meet the crimson. Even my own weapon disagrees with the sins I chose to commit when I fired that shot.

_They would have killed us. _I watch a lone bird soar through the air above, the first signs of life in a long time. _I didn't have a choice._

They would have murdered Elmyra and Marlene on the spot and left the bodies for the Kalm Fangs to devour. They would have tortured and executed me, like the dog that I am.

Survival. It is all a matter of survival in the end when it comes to the hunter and the hunted. That alone justifies my actions, doesn't it? They left me with no other choice but to take them down first.

"I'm tired," Marlene whines, clinging to Elmyra's skirt and trudging along as close to exhaustion as a child her age can get. Join the club kid. I think we're all tired, hungry, stiff, and ready to just give up and die at this point. I hate to imagine if we had hiked the whole way on foot.

"We're almost there," I reply, guiding them across an elevated section of stone and pointing to the faint glow in the distance. Safety. I never thought I would long for it as much as I do at this very moment. Once within those city walls, we'll be safe. Shinra won't be able to touch us for a while.

Kalm. I glance around at the makeshift city that just simply refused to curl up and die in the presence of Midgar's shadow across those wastelands. There used to be a lot of places like this. Little towns that once served some purpose, but to this day, this is the only one Shinra was unable to crush into oblivion. No one knows exactly why they let Kalm remain standing. At any given moment, they could have easily destroyed it and left it as a footnote in history.

"It looks like a castle!" Marlene brightens up at the brilliant slate colored cobblestone streets and the neatly built Tudor-style buildings packed together against what appears to be a half hearted attempt at a mighty stone wall. Heh, I can still recall thinking something very similar the first time I set foot in this city years ago with Tseng and Gun. Of course, back then the mission was routine and I was naïve and still new to how things worked. Matters of survival meant nothing and Shinra could do no wrong.

Kalm was actually one of the brighter spots in the otherwise gloomy tapestry of my life.

"Its so different." Elmyra looks around in equal shock and I'm certain that had this journey been under better circumstances, those faint tears clouding her eyes would be even worse than they are now. Poor woman. She's probably never seen anything beyond the slums of Midgar. Something as simple as Kalm must be beyond overwhelming.

"Does a princess live here?" Marlene tugs furiously upon my blazer, a yearning eagerness in her eyes. "Papa once said that all castles have a princess in them!"

"Well-" I catch the look Elmyra is giving me as several civilians wander from shop to shop, none even bothering to question our presence. "It's not really something I'm supposed to say, but just between you and me, Kalm's princess retired a while ago."

"What's retired mean?" The little girl looks at me, unconvinced at the story.

I smile and point to the far building, where a rather poor attempt at a bell tower stands, overlooking the entire village. "It means her prince charming came and swept her off of her feet to another kingdom."

"Aww. I was hoping to get to meet her."

I kneel down until I'm once again eyelevel with the child. Might as well run with this while I can. I'll need their cooperation to make this particular mission successful in the long run. "Don't be upset. She may be out on doing princess things, but that doesn't mean the job isn't open to another special little girl who deserves to live in a castle while she's away."

Her eyes light up at the prospect. "You really mean that, Miss Cissnei?"

"Of course I do. You can tell your papa all about it when he comes to visit you."

That is, if I can even find Barret out there. God knows what happened when they went chasing after Sephiroth.

"Do you hear that, Miss Elmyra! I get to be a princess!"

I smile and point to the place with the bell tower. "You and Ms. Gainsborough wait here. I'll be right back."

Leaving the pair where I'm certain nothing will attack, maim, or murder them, I trudge towards the building in question, the weight of the world momentarily shared by the friendliness of the civilians. Thank god for neutral territory.

Now to see if any of my old connections still stand.

An older woman answers the door, somewhat caught off-guard that it is so late in the evening for a visitor to be standing on her doorstep. "Can I help you?"

"Yes," I reply, exhausted and realizing that I probably look more like a displaced hobo than a Shinra employee at the moment. Here's to hoping that Shinra didn't find out about the under the table contacts bin we Turks assembled during Veld's reign of terror for emergencies such as this. "I'm looking for a woman by the name of 'Charlie.'"

"There is no one here by that name." She opens the door a little bit more, looking at me but not quite convinced yet if I am friend of foe. I don't expect her to recognize me. It's been more than seven years since Tseng and Gun introduced her to me and convinced this woman that if I needed help, she was to offer it without question. Personally, I'm surprised she's still alive. Here goes nothing.

"_My name is Cissnei Starling," _I respond in my best Wutainese which catches her attention immediately, as very few in this region can speak it fluently enough to make conversation, let alone explain something of dire importance. Tseng always cautioned me to address her in her native language if it is a matter of national security, otherwise risk being shut out in the cold. _"I'm a Turk under command of Mr. Tseng Washiniri, Leader of the Department of Administrative Research."_

"Shinra," she replies, her eyes dark at some memory that still remains a mystery to me. I'm not certain of just what sort of connection Tseng has with this woman, but her cooperation to shelter several of our people in the past, Veld being one of them, made her the closest thing to an ally I can possibly scrounge up under the circumstances. Gun once told me that the Turks agreed not to turn her in for being an illegal citizen to the region, and in return, she was to assist us on a need to know basis without so much as a question.

Much as I hate to blackmail a little old lady this late at night, I don't have much of a choice.

It doesn't take much convincing as I explain my current situation, leaving out the parts about having betrayed Shinra, the fact that my boss is more than likely dead thanks to a sociopath phantom with a katana, destroyed a convoy of Scarlet's soldiers, and eventually ended up here, seeking refuge with a widow and a wounded child in tow.

After what feels like half of an eternity, I finally convince this woman that we mean her no harm and using some of Reeve's diplomacy, win her over to our side.

Marlene cowers behind me fearfully as the elder woman studies her with a soft smile. _"What a darling little child." _

"_Her father's out on an important business trip. Mrs. Gainsborough is currently taking care of her until he returns. Neither one of them speak Wutainese." _

She nods and warmly guides the pair into the house. "Don't worry. Old Charlie will take care of them."

"It is greatly appreciated."

Elmyra gives me a look of uncertainty as she is herded into the dwelling with the weary child in tow. It's okay. We can trust this woman. I'm willing to stake my life on it at this point. What other choice do I have?

The beautiful thing about having under the table contacts, is that once one gets past the mandatory "Thank yous" and other morally correct ways of showing respect to one's elders, very rarely does the Turk seeking refuge actually have to make actual conversation if the need does not require it. Such is much of the way how dinner goes.

Vegetable soup. I stir the substance around the small bowl, separating a rogue carrot from a group of what appear to be potatoes and leeks. It's not bad actually. Hell, at this point in my life I think I'd be happy to even eat Rude's cooking and that usually requires one to adorn oneself with no less than three antidotes and a star pendant before having poison control on standby. It's not that I'm terribly hungry at the moment. Quite the opposite actually. It's just a force of habit at this stage of the game.

I didn't think it was possible to be this tired. I've been on missions like this before. Dozens of them. But not even AVALANCHE wore me down to this point. I finish the bowl of soup and casually take my leave of the table, where Marlene continues to chatter on about princesses with Charlie, her hand properly bandaged for the night. Elmyra watches me with this sense of sympathetic pity that really unnerves me.

I toss the dusty blazer over the back of the lone chair in the room I'm more than fortunate to have the privilege of sleeping in for the night with a sigh some time later and run my trembling fingers through my tangled auburn hair. It's been a while since I've actually been privileged to a shower with anything warmer than water that causes moderate hypothermia every morning. It's been a long time since I've actually eaten a meal that was that filling. It's been a long time since a lot of things.

Hell, I don't think I've even slept in an actual _bed _for months. It's amazing what one takes for granted over the years.

There is a sharp knock upon the door, making me jump as I straighten my tie out of habit. "What do you need?"

"I need to talk to you if you're decent."

It would be nice for even ten minutes worth of privacy once in a while. I sigh and straighten the collar of my blouse. Might as well get this over with while I'm in a semi-decent mood. "Sure. Come in."

"Marlene's sound asleep," Elmyra informs me, her eyes never leaving the pistol lying atop the nightstand where Rekka sits should I need it. "You have quite the way with children you know."

"It was my job to ensure the two of you reached safety. I was only following protocol." It's a bold faced lie and she knows it. Damn it. I must be tired.

She shakes her head and takes a seat beside me. "You're not like the other Turks, are you?"

"That depends," I pretend to be preoccupied with cleaning the blood off of Rekka's silver surface. "How many of us have you met?"

It is more of a challenge than a question - my intentions to convince her that I'm really not in the mood to discuss any of today's events. Even the most sturdy of watchdogs need some alone time after a battle such as that. I'd rather not explain myself to a widow if I can help it.

"You just don't look like the type to do what you did today."

"Looks can be deceiving, Mrs. Gainsborough."

"There's something I've been wanting to ask you since we met. I couldn't ask with Marlene capable of hearing the answer. It's about your eyes."

Rekka feels heavy in my grasp, the handkerchief's fibers splitting as I press the fabric harder against the tapered edge and draw a sharp breath, trying to keep my pulse from racing at the thought. I choose silence as my answer of choice.

Elmyra averts her eyes almost in disappointment. "I was wondering if you might have served in SOLDIER at some point."

"I've been a Turk my entire life," I whisper. No matter how many times I clean this weapon, it probably won't get any cleaner than right this second.

"Your eyes though-"

"SOLDIERs have bright bluish green eyes," I growl. "Mine are not blue."

"I'm sorry," she averts her eyes. "I didn't mean to offend you. It's just that a young, handsome SOLDIER once explained that when a person is exposed to mako, their eyes get this odd glow to them. I was wondering what your story was."

Zack…I flinch at the memory. Of course this woman would know about SOLDIER and mako. He probably stayed with Aerith on the days he was off duty and not required to be under our constant watch. An unusual dinner conversation I can imagine, but only Zack would be able to pull something like that off with class.

My eyes…I haven't seen them since well before the incident. I've never seen my reflection. I don't know what I look like anymore.

Did I really change that much?

"I-I was in an accident," I whisper, my fingers trembling as I clutch Rekka, wishing to be anywhere but here right now. Not these memories. I don't want to remember any of it. "A horrible, horrible accident. By the time I reached the hospital, I was…dead. Tseng. He-No, _they _did this to me…"

I drop Rekka and stare at the wall, making no move to retrieve it where it falls. "He told me that it was the only way to save my life. That I would not have survived any other way. They brought me back and kept me alive against my goddamn will. They turned me into a monster."

Elmyra remains quiet, if not a little stunned at what I've just told her. Seconds pass with only the nerve-wracking quiet of the room and the hiss of the steam flowing through the pipes in the walls to carry on the conversation.

"You're not a monster."

"You saw what I did today," I snarl, more bitter than I've ever been. She doesn't warrant my frustration. Not at all. And yet, a distant part of me prevents myself from stemming the flow of anger towards the woman who prodded and badgered her way into my private life. "Judge for yourself. I killed a man in cold blood without even hesitating."

"There's a difference between what you did and what a monster would have done," she speaks softly, as though not quite certain if she really feels comfortable attempting to bandage the wounds she's ripped open. If she was a wiser woman, she would get the hell out of here while she still can and before I change my mind about being so damn tolerant. "A monster would not care about the life of a child and tried to shield her from what happened."

"If I was anything less than a monster, I would have never let this crisis even happen. I would have killed Reno and stopped it before you all would have been involved."

Elmyra looks at me, somewhat confused. I'm frightened and lashing out with bitter words. I've been stripped of my defenses. There is literally nothing to prevent her from finding out just what sort of hell I've just revealed.

"The accident-" she pries.

I twist the handkerchief around my fingers in an effort to distract myself, failing miserably. "Sector Seven."

A hot substance scalds my eyes as I shake my head, feeling like a fool. A stronger person would be able to control their emotions about the subject. But all I can do is tremble as I remember those precious few memories I have of that hour. The clatter of aluminum and steel as we raced towards destiny. The timbre of gunshots. Knowing we were going to die with the weight of the world balanced upon our shoulders.

"I was one of the people on the pillar when it collapsed."

The widow gasps at the revelation and places a hand upon my quivering shoulder. "Oh god, I'm sorry, Cissnei. I never knew-"

"We tried so hard to prevent that pillar from falling," the tears blind me as they escape their boundaries, both Jessie and Cissnei mourning the loss and trying to stand as strong as humanly possible. "Biggs. Wedge. They tried so hard to stop it and died like common dogs. All I had to do was pull the trigger and I could have killed Reno before he could arm that bomb. I knew how to disarm it damn it! I could have stopped that pillar from coming down. But I wasn't strong enough."

"Then that makes you-"

"Don't tell Marlene," I warn, meeting her gaze with a hostile one of my own. "There are some things children do not need to know."

"You have to tell her!" the widow replies, a stern sense of discipline in her voice. "She deserves to know what happened to you! That poor child has nobody right now who she can actually call family! To hear that you're still alive-"

"It's not that simple," I glance down at Rekka in disgust.

"Of course it is! You explain to her what happened and she'll understand. She's a rather bright little girl."

"I noticed. Tell me, Elmyra, would you tell Aerith that you know how to use a high caliber semi-automatic pistol?"

She looks at me, taken back by the question. "Well, of course-"

"But you wouldn't tell her that Tseng, the one man she could potentially hate with a passion, taught you how to shoot one though. You would leave out that 'little' detail?"

Why do I get the feeling that I'm setting myself up for the shouting match of the century. Fine. I'd rather she leave me in peace as soon as possible anyway. It is none of her concern who in the hell I am, was, or currently intend to be. She should no better than to constantly badger the tired watchdog.

"You-"

"You can call me a lot of things, Mrs. Gainsborough, but stupid is not one of them. I know that he would have showed you how to shoot to defend yourself and Aerith should the need arise. You've obviously had quite some practice to make a shot like you did out there. But you would never tell her that outright. Even though, she probably already knows down in her heart that you do, hearing it from you would not be in your best interest now would it?"

"This is different though. What about that little girl's father? He was shaken and upset when they came to see Marlene. I'm sure he would be more than happy to find out his daughter was in hands who are more than capable of protecting her. Hands he trusts."

"Barret doesn't know I survived, or that I've really been a high-level Turk all along," I retrieve the shuriken and turn it over in the light of the lamp. The symbol of my less-than-stellar career, now my only hope of remaining what I am. "And there is no need for him to find out now. Jessie died when that pillar went down with Biggs and Wedge. If I told Marlene the truth, it would, _change _things."

And not in a good way either. Not even Cissnei wants to deal with the fallout of something that devastating. The world just isn't that simple, nor myself strong enough to face it - yet.

"I've learned a lot of things Tseng and the others could not teach me, Mrs. Gainsborough, in that brief time I spent as Jessie of AVALANCHE. Children see things in a different view. They live in a world where everything is black and white, and the people they hold in high regards can do no wrong. Tell me, how do you think Marlene would react to the fact that Jessie is capable of taking a man's life in the cold blood of survival? How do you explain to a child, who's been taught what is right and wrong, that suddenly, the rules have changed? That in some life and death situations, it is acceptable to actually _kill _or be killed?"

She averts her eyes and quietly looks at Rekka. "They've done horrible things to you, haven't they?"

"Shinra's like a world class dog fight where the mutts and the pedigrees rip at one another's throats until their superiority is established and the lesser dog is dead," I whisper. "A watchdog who's outlived her usefulness and deflected to the other side is as good as dead. And Shinra will not stop until that watchdog's corpse is in their presence. Especially one they created."

"I'm sorry."

"The longer I can shield Marlene from that world, the better off her world will be."

"So, you're going to leave that child again? You're going to break another promise?"

I set Rekka back in its spot by the nightstand with a sigh. "Trust me, if I decide to leave you two, it will be strictly on the basis to protect the two of you. I don't intend on leaving until I settle things with Scarlet and Shinra."

She does not need an explanation as to what 'settle things' might entail from a Turk's point of view. She knows that at any given moment I could cross paths with my enemy and not survive the encounter. I don't need them getting too close to me should that happen.

"You'll have to tell her sooner or later about you though."

"Maybe so, but not right now. Do I have your word that you will keep quiet about this?"

She nods, unconvinced. But, the way she looks at me tells me she will not tell anyone about me. "Only if you promise that you won't put that little girl through any grief, Jessie."

She knows I cannot make a promise like that as she exits the room, the door echoing shut with a sharp click.


	32. Behind Locked Doors

**Sorry about the long wait folks. The Muse was busy with extra hours at work and kinda rushed this chapter (well, some aspects because I felt it was being too copy and paste from the game transcript at times.) Well, kinda rushed is an understatement. She just threw everything on paper and hacked it into something readable as she went. That said, hopefully, I'll be quicker with the next, much better update - though I don't think I did too bad on this one. Also, the Muse has been receiving a lot of questions about certain directions of the fic lately (24 PMs to be exact on the "Will we encounter AVALANCHE?" topic alone as of this morning,) which she has collectively answered in her forum found on her profile page so you can find out. Feel free to carry on discussions and questions there folks. Thanks folks and enjoy the update!**

**Chapter Thirty Two - Behind Locked Doors**

A wise friend once told me that leaving a door unlocked in the presence of the enemy is a lot like choosing to stand outside holding a metal rod in the middle of a lightning storm. Sooner or later, you're going to get struck and more than likely end up dead by the time it is all said and done. Therefore, by all common sense, the initial idea is to keep the doors locked at all times if one wishes to survive whatever may come prowling.

But that same wise friend also informed me that it is not so much the idea of keeping the doors locked for protection and survival against what prowls outside that warrants such paranoia. If anything, what goes on _behind _locked doors is sometimes more dangerous than anything outside ever can be. Therefore, if one truly wants to find a way to keep someone safe, it is often better that they get locked out than actually in.

I never thought I would understand something so trivial, and I'm still not certain I ever will. But that is the wonderful thing about being a former watchdog turned fringe-dwelling mongrel. There is always time to hurry up and figure things out.

I'm still not one hundred percent certain just what inspired me to lock the old rickety door a short time after Elmyra retired for the evening, leaving me to ponder my miniature identity crisis in private, but, as I sit here by the window, at three thirty in the morning, staring at the ringing PHS that so ungraciously woke me from a dead slumber, I think I instinctively know.

"_Cissnei?" _

For a moment, I choose to remain silent, anticipating the angry lecture I'm probably going to receive from the one person who has no tangible idea of just why in the hell I chose to run when I did. "Reeve."

"_I'd ask just what in the hell you were thinking and where in the hell you are, but right now, I don't honestly care, so long as you're not being shot at, as I have bigger problems to contend with." _

And you're calling to complain to _me _because?

"_Listen. I assume you have that computer still. I hope you do, because in about fifteen seconds the entire world may depend upon it." _

"Reeve. Hold on a second." He sounds rough, no doubt something's got him slightly more than frantic so early. "What happened now?"

"_Quite possibly the end of the world as we know it. Now get your computer and get into Tseng's account and transfer everything under File 'S' to your hard drive. Delete you trail and for god's sake be quick about it."_

Something else must have happened if he's asking me to raid Tseng's computer this late at night. I cannot help but feel this horrible sense of foreboding as I set the computer up and quickly find what Reeve has asked me to secure. When Scarlet and her cronies come for it, all they're going to find is an empty spot on his hard drive, nothing out of the ordinary to give any hint that Tseng might have been involved with his own investigation. It is the least I can do given the circumstances.

"Reeve," I pull the folder up on my screen, awaiting further orders. "I got what you wanted."

"_Good," _he replies, almost relieved in a sense. _"Now, I need your assurance that what I am about to show you goes no farther than you."_

"With all due respect, Reeve, who in the hell would I tell?" It's not like I intend on waking Elmyra, Marlene, or even Charlie up to inform them that I just broke the law for the ten millionth time in my career. Hell, I haven't even told them the reason for our sudden flight from Midgar, and if I can help it, I won't be telling them much of anything anytime soon.

"_I am serious, Cissnei. What you have in front of you is something only a few select individuals on the planet have seen and lived to tell the tale about."_

I quickly open the folder, watching as well over ten thousand different files reveal themselves. Holy. These are memory banks, no doubt from Cait Sith. A treasure trove of data that I can't do a damn thing with unless I have a hint of where to begin.

Wow. There is a lot of data here. And a nice, longer than normal, damage report? I pick the file and quickly open its contents, watching as my screen loads hundreds of what appear to be images.

"Um, Reeve. What exactly am I looking at?" I watch the sharp engravings appear before me. Images of what appear to be people cast in torchlight. Bright, golden torchlight, as though the walls themselves are plated in some metallic element that shimmers under firelight.

"_What almost got Tseng killed. The central floor of the Temple of the Ancients. Keep watching."_

Temple of the Ancients? I cue the recorded clip from the visual memory banks to play, watching as the images of people are replaced in a sequence and a mighty orb fills the walls, flickering ominously in the torchlight. Flames sear the individuals upon the ground, burying, consuming them by the time I reach the last wall panel where what appears to be an altar lies.

A disjointed flicker of silver cascades across Cait Sith's field of vision, the heavy creak of slick, black leather filling the air as he steps past. Like a phantom, almost gliding, the heavy, lethal glint of the katana catching the light of the torches and bending it around his presence. The image wavers ever so slightly, as though brushed by an invisible force before settling back into its normal rhythm.

He halts before the altar, those horrific mako green eyes turned upon the robot cat and the stunned members of AVALANCHE gathered in this area of the temple. _"Mother…Soon, Mother…We shall become one…"_

I notice Aerith take a hesitant step in reverse, a look of absolute confusion, if not outright terror etched upon her face. _"H-how do you intend to become one with the planet?"_

Sephiroth leers at her with this all-knowing arrogance about him, his eyes narrowed as he studies her with the same finesse as a butcher may study premium grade livestock. With a hint of a smirk, he swings the katana across the space between her and the altar, sending her back a few steps as Cloud and Tifa ready themselves for a brawl. _"It is rather simple, my dear. Once the planet is hurt, it gathers spirit energy to heal the injury. The amount of energy gathered, depends upon the size of the injury."_

Without warning, he drives the point of the katana into the stone floor with a resounding shrill that forces every member of AVALANCHE in attendance back even farther. _"What would happen if there was an injury that threatened the very life of the planet?"_

He raises his head, silver locks falling away from those sinister eyes in something caught in the snares of raw madness. _"Think of how much energy would be gathered! All that power and destruction. And in the center of that wound, will be me!"_

He rips the katana from the floor, a shockwave of energy making the image waver again and casts both Cloud and Aerith a ruthless glare of challenge. _"All that boundless energy will be mine. By merging with the energy of the planet, I shall become a new life form, a new existence. Melding with the planet…I will cease to exist as I am now…Only to be reborn as a 'God' to rule over every soul."_

Aerith appears visibly shaken by the haunting words, clasping at the buttons on her vest. _"An injury powerful enough to destroy the planet? Injure the planet…"_

Sephiroth spreads his arms with a gleeful chuckle and faces the murals spanning the walls. _"Behold the mural. The ultimate destructive magic…Meteor."_

There is a collective gasp from the members of AVALANCHE in attendance, Cait Sith's field of vision once again bringing the murals into view as the people in them are crushed and burned into oblivion by golden flames and carmine shadows.

"_That'll never happen," _Cloud steps forward, shielding the trembling Aerith from the madman's leering gaze, looking every bit the thick-skinned rogue defender he's playing the part of. There's something odd about him. Something odd about the way he looks at Sephiroth with those mako blue eyes of his and that 'I'll take on the world any day' attitude. It's that look I recall in the reactor, when he was downright scary.

"_Wake up," _Sephiroth is a violent flash, fiery light surging through the corridor as the image goes haywire for several long seconds. Cloud continues to shout something in the background, the echo of footsteps and shouts of Tifa and Aerith for him to stop chasing Sephiroth flooding the static.

The transmission cuts off almost as quickly as it began, leaving only static and a dark screen.

"Reeve?" I glance down at my hand, finding it trembling slightly as my fingers hover above the keyboard, uncertain if I want to see more of Cait Sith's records. "What did I just witness?"

"_That is what is currently being referred to as a Calamity from the skies in the making. I believe you and Tseng did some research on this a while back, which is why I'm giving you all of his research so you can tell me just what in the hell Black Materia __**is **__and is __**not**__."_

Black Materia…For a moment, I merely stare at the computer screen, wishing I had not even bothered to answer his phone call. I pull up a closer clip of the elaborate altar, its carvings in a language I've never seen before spanning around it and the wall behind it. Directly in the center floats a small, sparkling object that appears much like a miniature pyramid encasing a small, black orb in its grasp, as though taunting the person who was privileged to behold its mighty presence.

Black Materia. Calamity from the skies. I find myself retrieving anything and everything I can recall having read from Professor Gast's research notes. Endless charts and figures I have no idea what they may be a part of. Quick notes on the Cetra and his interviews with Ifalna. Images recreated by computer imaging that may give some insight into just what the characters behind the altar may hold for us.

"Hey, Reeve-" I glance at the data banks of Cait Sith, noting the scrambled coding and gaps in time. From the looks of this information, it's outdated, and well over half of a day old. "You're not telling me the whole story."

"_I took some damage from a rather unpleasant dragon guardian a short time after it was recorded. Being so deep underground, I'm surprised I was able to get a transmission at all. I'm not sure if much of anything recorded, but, in a nutshell, we figured out the entire temple revolves around this Black Materia, and if it is removed…"_

I study the image of the small, transparent temple encasing the black materia. It doesn't take much to see the elaborate trap set up there. Still, if this high and mighty phantom is so damn 'mortal,' why doesn't he just grab it himself and the problem should be taken care of by the Ancients.

Because he's the insane pseudo-phantom who desires to become a god, I remind myself. Of course he wouldn't want to do something that might just destroy his chances, even if he is a 'ghost' as we're assuming.

But, what is with all of this corrupt data from that moment onward? I scroll through it quickly, a distant part of me more awake and more alert than I have ever been at the findings. Something _big _happened. "What in the hell did you do?"

"_I'm not entirely certain," _Reeve responds with a genuine sense of confusion about him. _"It went into automatic mode and I couldn't get it out of it. But, what I do know is that I'm going to need your help in deciphering some coding."_

This is beyond deciphering I'm afraid. What I'm looking at is a complete and total obliteration of anything remotely salvageable. "Reeve, I don't think I can fix this."

"_I figured you'd say that. I got to thinking when you mentioned I might need another robot when I first retrieved the keystone and gave it to Tseng, so, I used the old programming and build another robot. So, we haven't lost AVALANCHE completely yet."_

"Please tell me that my intuition is lying to me," I practically beg. The more I see of these reports, the more I'm half wondering just how far damned we already are. "Tell me you didn't-"

"_I didn't. Cait Sith, however, went ahead and retrieved the Black Materia. What you have before you is the moments up to the complete destruction of the Temple of the Ancients."_

Oh dear god. This is why I hate technology. The only thing I can think of is that somehow, and I'm not sure how, AVALANCHE managed to screw with the programming and somehow the automatic coding got scrambled and was misunderstood. That means- "Where is the Black Materia right this second?"

Dare I even want to know. Please let Aerith have it in her possession. She's the only one who might have a hint of common sense not to do anything stupid with it and is quite possibly the only person on this miserable planet who may actually know how to destroy it.

"_I wish I could tell you something good, but your wonderful little blonde-haired friend suffered a bit of a mental breakdown and for some reason, handed it over to Sephiroth."_

Fantastic. I really hope that this is all a horrible dream. Yes. A very horrible dream.

"_There's more," _he replies. _"A short time after he handed the materia over, he turned and attacked Aerith when she tried to take control of the situation. Tifa had to step in or he would have killed the poor woman."_

"Oh my god. Is she okay?" I cannot imagine Cloud actually harming someone like Aerith just out of the blue like that. Then again, he almost killed me a few times before. When he was in 'those' trances of his.

"_A little bruised up, but Tifa managed to knock Cloud out before he could do any real damage. They're still sorting it out while I talk to you. I, well, Cait Sith the second, got there late, but it was almost as though we were looking at a second Sephiroth."_

A second Sephiroth? We can't even handle one. But, Cloud…

"Reeve-"

"_I was hoping you may know something about his behavior. It happened quickly and very violently. I figured since you were involved in the Fair-Strife case, you might be able to shed some light on if Strife is connected to Sephiroth in any way."_

"You know I had nothing to do with Nibelheim," I reply, not really wanting to dig into that part of my life ever again. "I have no idea what was done in that mansion. I was only supposed to bring back two bodies, which I obviously did not do successfully."

"_I am aware. I was hoping you would break into Hojo's files and find out for me. I know Tseng asked you to look into it at some point. We're going to need all of the information we can get to get us out of this mess."_

Out of this mess? Cloud handed the black materia over to Sephiroth! There is no simple 'getting out' of something like that. "I'm not-"

"_The Black Materia is the enemy's hands," _he assures me. _"The problem is, there are others out there who wish to keep it that way."_

I don't need an elaboration on just who those others might be. No doubt they are rejoicing at the idea of a possible power trip. Rejoicing or flat out scared to death. Sephiroth did take out Tseng and showed that he is in no way on Shinra's side. We may be able to turn this to our advantage.

"_I need you to do something for me. I managed to retrieve the little black box I had installed in the original Cait Sith out of fear something like this may happen. That box contains everything up until the actual conflict between Aerith and Cloud. I want it in your possession."_

My possession? But there's not a whole lot that I haven't already learned from the data banks that can help in this situation.

"_Also, the data you have on your computer. Take it and get as far from Shinra as you can humanly get. Make damn sure no one else gets the opportunity to see it. Destroy it if you must, but no one from Shinra can see what is contained on that computer. The world depends upon it."_

"Oh no you don't, Reeve," I growl, both inner watchdog and mutt reaching a mutual conclusion at once. "You are not going to pin the possible end of the world on my shoulders. I'm done being a Turk."

It's a little like throwing the stick for the dog to fetch, only, instead of bringing the stick back to its owner, the dog takes off running and stays just out of reach. Looks like I'm going to have to break another promise as the proverbial stick was not simply thrown to me, but at me.

"_I'm not asking this as a superior officer, or even as a favor. I'm asking as a friend."_

I glance towards the door with a soft sigh of defeat. A 'friend.' He considers me a friend. Yeah. While I have every reason to believe him. I also know that no doubt, Scarlet is somewhere in the shadows, pulling strings and no doubt trying to get her paws on that data so she has something to lord over Reeve and Tseng's heads until she gets what she wants.

And if I have the data, no doubt it will piss Scarlet off. And the more pissed off she is, the more likely she is to make mistakes. It will buy AVALANCHE some time at least. Hopefully enough for them to catch up with Sephiroth and retrieve that materia. "I'll do my best, Reeve."

I click the PHS off and close down the computer for the night. Because what happens behind closed doors, stays behind closed doors.


	33. Knowing

**Ugh. Again, I must apologize for this being late as usual. The Muse hasn't been feeling very Muse-like lately. Hey, it's summer when I live. Cut me some slack. For me that is my busy season. :P But, one of these days I'll find a way to make it up to ya'll with a slew of updates. Until then, enjoy this rather short update.**

**Chapter Thirty Three - Knowing**

They say that when there is about to be an earthquake, the rats will scurry the hell out of there at the first ripples of the earth and be well gone before any real damage can take place. The wise pick up on such signals and ultimately save their lives by fleeing. It is the same with the fox.

When the presence of the farmer is near, it is best to get the hell out of the henhouse before that deadly bullet ends whatever deeds were taking place behind closed doors. It is a matter of life and death, I try to remind myself as I sit here, worrying the fringe of my blazer out of nervous habit and quietly packing away the battered and abused laptop into its case along with the meager supplies Charlie has been more than generous to supply me with.

A couple of potions and a few antidotes just in case things get bad. A phoenix down from my own limited stock. I'm going to have to really be careful this time. No one is going to come running to my rescue should things get bad.

But they won't get bad, I remind myself as I double check to ensure Rekka is equipped with its usual Blizzaga materia arrangement, the steel cold in my hands. I'm faster than most and without the extra burden, I'll make decent time.

Reeve owes me for this.

I've gone from watchdog, to fox, to a simple rat, all within a few precious hours. That has got to be some sort of new record for a Turk. But, even the fox has to do what is best for everyone, and if following the rat's concept suits her purpose, then that is what I shall do.

I just wish there were better circumstances. For once, it is not the _not _knowing that is causing the issue. It is what I _do _know that brings about a horrific realization that something much bigger than a minor earthquake is about to shake Shinra to the very core.

A mad man has an ancient, all-powerful piece of materia capable of extinguishing life on this miserable planet, and I can't warn a damn soul.

"You're leaving?" Elmyra inquires, nearly giving me a minor heart attack as I finish equipping my weapon and checking my supplies. From the looks of it, Charlie was nice enough to give me at least a week's worth of nonperishable food. That should be more than enough to tide me over until I get to where it is Reeve and I have arranged to meet in cloak and dagger formation.

"Yes." I do not need to even look at her to know that disapproving look she's giving me right now. She does not approve. Nor should she. The fact that I was planning on doing this without informing her about it is not going to sit well. I holster the loaded pistol and check to ensure that what little ammo I do have left is where I can find it in a hurry.

"And what of Marlene?" There's that judgmental tone of hers. She's too damn predictable. "What is going to happen to her?"

"This does not involve the two of you," I respond, not meeting her eyes. To her, I must be the definition of an arrogant ass by this point. Can't help it. It's what I do for a living. Neither Jessie, nor Cissnei approve of this manner of dealing with unwanted attention, but both can jointly agree that it is for the best. "I'm going alone. Trust me. I'm only doing this because I _have _to, not because I actually want to."

Someone has to keep the wolves at bay and right now, I'm the only one capable of actually doing it. Elmyra knows it too, if that look she is giving me is genuine. She knows I'm keeping something very important quiet. "You know something, don't you? Something you are not telling us."

"And if I do?"

She should know by now that arguing with a one-time Turk turned terrorist is not going to end in her favor. Instead of inquiring directly though, she merely crosses her arms and sighs.

"You are going to tell that child you are leaving. It is the least you can do. I won't ask where you are going, but, for the love of all that is holy, say a proper goodbye to that child before you end up dead and unable to do so."

"No." It is an abrupt, stubborn answer and I know she is not amused. "I will not tell her goodbye."

Her response is nothing short of absolute horror. Yes. I meant every word that I just said. I will not tell that child goodbye.

"That is a horrible thing to say!"

I cannot help but allow a brief smirk at the words. "Indeed it is, but, in my world, saying goodbye means a completely different thing than in yours. Don't worry. I will tell her before I leave. You have my word."

Breakfast is a whole other story. It's early. Far too early for a child to be awake and about. And yet, there she sits, none-the-wiser to the situation that seems to have changed the atmosphere from comforting and friendly, to hostile just like that. Whatever hostilities between Elmyra and I seem to have been buried in a temporary truce - at least until the opportunity arises for me to flee into the wilderness and fulfill my end of the bargain with Reeve. I explain to the child that I am leaving for a while, and she won't reveal who in the hell I really am. It is fair enough.

I glance at the clock, not terribly interested in what I assume is supposed to be some sort of egg and cheese concoction on my plate. It's not bad tasting, just a little dry. Reminds me of the academy when I was younger. And, if the way Marlene is prodding it with her fork, I'm not the only one.

Even Elmyra cannot help by allow a brief, albeit tense smile at the child's antics. But still. Food is food. It is moments like these that make me want to just call Reeve right this second and tell him to go to hell over this whole fiasco. But, I know otherwise. If I don't go, Scarlet and her troops will. And if they get the information Reeve has…A part of me shudders at the thought of what could happen.

"Something wrong, Cissnei?"

"It's nothing," I reply, hoping I don't sound half as annoyed as I tend to be when being interrupted from my thoughts. Poor Elmyra. She did nothing to warrant such a response as that. It's not her fault this had to happen.

With a sigh, I finish the excuse for an egg and retreat to my room without so much as another word to the three seated at the table. The sooner I get away from them, the sooner I can go back to being a Turk - cold and emotionless. I want to go back to being the person who if I make a mistake, it is my mistake to make.

Unfortunately, there is the soft, dreaded patter of footsteps not too far behind me. Fantastic. How does one talk to a child such as Marlene and explain that just because _they _are now safe, does not mean that _I_ get to stay here to protect them against Scarlet?

It doesn't take her too long to catch up to me, her eyes falling upon the small satchel, my shuriken, and the computer, all neatly organized in the smallest amount of space and the lightest amount of weight for travel.

"You're going away again," she averts her eyes sadly, pointing to the shuriken. "You promised you wouldn't."

"It's only for a little while," I assure her, not convinced myself yet that this whole endeavor is a good idea to begin with. For all I know, it could be my last mission ever.

"That's what they said too." She takes a seat upon the bed, studying the items I'll need for this trip. "But they never came back."

"I'm a little bit different, Marlene." And I am. I've learned a lot since then. The value of a promise to be exact.

"But you promised you wouldn't leave. You promised!"

With a sigh, I take a seat beside her. I'll never get used to how to handle children such as this one. "Marlene, sometimes grownups have other promises they need to handle first for other grownups. I have to help Mr. Tuesti with a few important grownup things."

Yeah. Like trying to prevent the end of the world as we know it. I would say that counts as a pretty big promise to keep.

"Still. You promised you wouldn't leave us." She crosses her little arms and glares at me adamantly. Gods I hate that look. "What if the bad man comes to get us while you're gone?"

"He won't," I assure her. "He's got other people to go after at the moment."

Yeah. Like me. The sooner I go away from here, the better. I'm too damn soft to be a Turk now. Too damn gentle.

"But-"

"Listen, Marlene, I promise that while I'm gone, the bad man will not come for you or Mrs. Gainsborough. I promise."

"What if he does though? What if something really bad happens while you're gone?"

Worst things will happen if I don't go. I point to the open doorway and the flight of crooked wooden stairs spiraling upwards. "I want to show you something, Marlene."

She gives me a puzzled look as I begin walking towards the stairwell and wait for her to catch up to me.

"Are you going away forever?" she asks quietly as the two of us climb the narrow stairwell to the small, afterthought of an attic where an ancient crate sits on its side, empty of its contents.

"Not forever." I glance at her, meeting her gaze. "As soon as I help Mr. Tuesti, I'm coming right back here to protect you and Mrs. Gainsborough. I would never leave you two forever."

"Why do you have to go though? Isn't Mr. Tuesti a grownup?"

"Mr. Tuesti is in a lot of trouble for a grownup right now. Which is why he needs me to help him. I'm sure you've gotten into trouble in the past too?"

I draw back the ancient curtains and wipe some of the dust from the darkened window panes and the child takes a seat upon the overturned crate and watches. "Yeah. Daddy and Tifa yelled at me and Denzel for breaking a window once. We were just playing."

"Well," I cannot help but smile at the memory of that day. "Mr. Tuesti did something a little bit worse than break a window…"

He threw so many damn stones and sticks that he shattered nearly everything. And now the watchdog he managed to hit is charged with getting him out of trouble by carrying said stick away from the executives before he is caught and killed for it.

"Did they put him in the corner? I hate the corner. It's so dumb."

At this, I cannot help but laugh. "Mr. Tuesti finds it boring. They took away his toy robot and put him in the corner. He's supposed to stay there for a while."

Well, it's not a total lie. And it serves to fill the child's imagination of Mr. Tuesti not being above a child when it comes to punishments.

"You mean, grownups get sent to the corner too?"

"Of course. Only, it's not as much fun for us when it happens. There is a lot of yelling."

Ah. There we go. I manage to work the latch loose on the window, prying it open with a shriek of wood and glass shifting.

"Does the bad man ever get sent to the corner?"

"Yep." I fish around in the pocket of my blazer for the item that I seek. Hopefully I didn't lose it between Midgar and Kalm. My fingertips brush the cold, metallic cord and brush over the small, pointed pendant with the familiar tiny green emerald in the center. "That's kind of where I need to go. It's my job to put the bad man in the corner this time."

And a few other bad eggs that need their fair share of overdue punishment, but the child doesn't need to know that until she's older. I highly doubt Barret would enjoy his daughter knowing that a Turk explained the execution process as we know it.

"But, you'll come back right? You won't leave forever?"

I smile and point to the window. "Remember that Princess I told you about?"

She nods, unconvinced, but choosing to remain quiet to allow me to finish my story.

"You want to see what your kingdom looks like?"

With the eagerness of the child she is, she hurries to the window and I drag the crate closer so she can stand on it. Much like an overexcited puppy, she peers out the window, staring at the hodgepodge of buildings encased within the walls as the first rays of magenta morning light begin to spill over the horizon.

For a moment, I merely stare, watching the light invade the dark shadows and fill the cobblestone streets with life. Everything is so beautiful, just as I remember it being. Beneath the sparkling remnants of last night's rain, the world shimmers.

Marlene's eyes light up in surprise. "It's so pretty!"

Indeed it is. Not even the mighty, evil beast looming in the distance like a panther about to strike can take that away. From here, the darkness of evil is drowned in light and safety. Midgar cannot harm us and is just that, an eyesore.

"Is the kingdom to your liking?" I smile, watching her expression of awe at the sunlight. She reaches out a hand and tries to capture a small beam of light as is mingles with the dust stirred up by the crate. I cannot imagine a life without seeing the sun rise at least once. Not a life cast in the eternal clouds and rain of a place like Midgar.

She looks up at me. "It's perfect! I can really be the princess here?"

"Yep. I need you to watch this place while I'm away. But, you'll need something to look the part. Hold out your hand and close your eyes." She does as she is commanded and I gently place the star pendant in her palm and curl her fingers around it. "Consider this a gift from the former princess I've been instructed to give to you."

She opens her eyes and studies the rather plain pendant in absolute shock. It's my old star pendant, but it should keep her safe until I am able to get back here. I'm surprised that out of all of the things to give back to me, Tseng thought it in his best interest to give me back my star pendant as well.

"It's so beautiful!"

"You can show your papa when he comes to visit you. Until then. Hold on to it for me would you? I'm afraid I'll lose it."

Instead of simply saying thank you, the child does the unexpected and hugs me. Cissnei is absolutely terrified, while Jessie is equally shocked. It's not often people can do that sort of thing and get away with it. But she is a child. A child I made a promise to come back and protect. And I will keep that promise come hell in high water.

"I have to go. But, I promise I will come back, definitely to see how your kingdom is doing."

"Don't die, okay?"

"Don't worry, kiddo. I wouldn't dream of it."

And, leaving the child to survey her kingdom once again, I retreat down the stairs and back to my room. It will buy me plenty of time to get as far from Kalm as humanly possible before she discovers that I have indeed told her something less than the truth. Retrieving my supplies, I catch a glimpse of Elmyra watching my every movement.

It is a disapproving look, one that brands itself into my memory. I do not want that to be the last look I ever get from these people. I want our next parting to be a happier one. Much happier than this one is.

And with a somber look of my own, I retreat downstairs and close the door with a sharp click. I am the fox. It is my job to flee from the hounds. I just know that something horrible is going to happen before I get back here. I can feel it in the air.


	34. Birds of a Feather

**The Muse brings you the next installment in this fic and hopes that you will all enjoy it. (She apologizes for posting and forgetting to change the main synopsis chapter again. It happens folks.) Someone out there will I'm sure, despite it being a filler the Muse felt compelled to write. : ) Also, no update next week as the Muse spends some time getting real life issues caught up. (My best friend is getting married, so I have A LOT of stuff to help with - being the maid of honor and stuff.) Hopefully though, you will see the action-packed updates twice a week once it is back in full swing. So that's just a little something to look forward to. Enjoy folks. **

**Chapter Thirty Four - Birds of a Feather**

There are some things in life watchdogs and foxes do not do - hunting alone in the wilderness being one of those golden rules of survival you do not break without sizable consequence. Unfortunately, desperate times call for desperate measures, and one does not get more desperate than I am right now.

I cast Rekka aside and crawl closer to my target, hoping the scent of that pack of Kalm Fangs less than a half mile away does not pick up on the presence of the target I have been actively stalking for most of the afternoon. The last thing I need is for them to flush it out of the wavy field of endless grasslands and boulders, circle it, and take it down as supper. The more alive it is when I manage to catch it, the better off I will be.

For a moment, I hold my breath, watching the direction of the swaying grass change again. Damn it. I can only hope he didn't catch the Kalm Fangs nor my own scent yet, nor vice versa. I've always heard that a pack of hungry ones are even more of a pain than the minor legion of them I've already had to fend off today. And in a few hours, it will be almost too dark to travel by foot and still make any sizable progress.

There he stands, the epitome of convenience and a practical godsend to all Turks in need of a quick route through the wastelands after covering more than fifty miles on foot in an unrivaled amount of time. Dying sunlight coats his less-than-smooth yellow feathers, ruffled by the winter breeze as he claws the earth with his mighty dark talons and pecks at the small greens spread out before him. He's ugly as hell, but to me, there is no beautiful bird on the planet at this very moment.

That's it. Just a little bit farther, big guy. By chocobo standards, he's a lot smaller and younger than most. But, under these circumstances, I'll take what I can get. Being picky is not on my agenda. I crawl a foot closer, watching as he pecks at the wild gysahl greens I've laid out in a nice, even trail towards the trap I've been herding him towards for most of the afternoon.

For a moment, he raises his head and looks around with an alarmed wark of surprise and I watch the Kalm Fangs milling about in the distance, their pups playing and wrestling out some extra energy before nightfall and hunting begins.

Don't you dare run you stupid bird. I momentarily consider reaching for Rekka and retrieving the materia from it. I could always graze him with a low level Blizzaga spell - just enough to stun him long enough to get a rope around its neck and somehow get aboard its back.

That wouldn't work. Knowing my luck, I would miss and he would in turn attack me and kill me. I seem to have that kind of luck. Besides. I'm counting on that shuriken catching between those boulders to hold him in place long enough for me to actually successfully call this a catch.

After examining his surroundings for several long, agonizing minutes, he resumes his grazing and edges closer to the trap, one talon within perfect range. I grasp the rope Charlie had loaned me before I departed Kalm and make my move the moment his beak touches those greens.

There is a snap, followed by a loud beating of wings and scratching of talons. The rope slips through my hands as I throw my weight into drawing it taut, praying that the shrubs I chose to secure it will hold long enough for me to somehow keep him from running off and dragging me with him. Catching wild chocobos sucks. That's all I'll say.

Dust kicks high into the air, the warking beast throwing his body backwards in vain attempt to loosen the rope securely around his neck, preventing him from getting his head back up and able to use his weight to break free and flee. I quickly loop the rope around one of the sturdier shrubs, keeping one hand upon the taut rope and slowly making my way towards the beast hissing and warking at the same time with its beady little eyes trained upon me. If he keeps this up, those Kalm Fangs will be here in a few minutes at the most.

I reach into my pocket and retrieve some of the gysahl greens, holding them out to the chocobo in the closest thing to a proverbial peace offering I can manage. He slams a talon into the earth and stretches his neck forward with a pathetic wark. Figures. One chocobo on this miserable grassland-turned-wasteland and he happens to be just as stubborn as I am.

"Hey there, chocobo." I whisper softly. If the guys saw this, I'd be the laughing stock of the Turks. You just don't talk to chocobos. It doesn't happen. "I need your help."

He turns a beady eye of mistrust upon me, no doubt pondering the situation in that tiny brain of his. I offer the greens to him once more, my movements measured and slow so not to startle him. Gods. He's a lot taller than he looked several minutes ago.

I'm not afraid of him, I try to assure myself. He's just a chocobo. I'm really not that bad of a rider. I've just never actually caught and wrangled a wild one for my own personal agenda before. From what the guys say, it's rather easy to steer once you're aboard and after a while, they actually start to do what you want them to. It's when you get off that they take off and are never seen again that's the problem.

Then again, when this particular information was explained to me, Reno's arm was in a cast and Rude had ended up with a broken leg thanks to said chocobo in question. I should have asked Tseng for tips on it, as from what I understand, he spent a good portion of his youth learning the ways of the chocobo and actually knows how to ride one up to racing standard. Somehow I doubt Reeve will appreciate me injuring myself by doing something stupid.

Four hours. That's all I need this guy for. Long enough to cross the marshes and not be eaten by the giant Midgar Zolom living there. I think I can manage that.

The chocobo snatches the greens and pecks my hand with his sharp beak, forcing me a step back.

"All right you son of a-" I reach out and grasp a fistful of feathers. He shies away in response, clicking his beak in warning. "I need you to take me to the Mythril Mines. After that, you can go back to eating. But until then. I caught you. I'm going to make this trip worth my while."

I'm already more than a half of a day behind schedule as it is. The only way I'm going to make up the time is with this pathetic excuse for a bird.

"Okay, you," I gingerly work the rope around the back of his head and over his beak, keeping pressure on the rope to prevent him from whipping his head back and escaping. Slowly, as though walking a very fine tight rope, I make my way back and retrieve my weapon and supplies, swinging them over my back and continuing to work the rope with one hand and try to keep the bird amused with my dwindling supply of greens.

Thankfully, chocobos are not the brightest creatures on the planet, and this one doesn't seem to be the one to break that stigma as he munches away at the greens none-the-wiser to the fact that I've already managed to work the ropes around his beak and neck in such a way that it will serve as a crude bridle to steer him with.

Now, just how am I supposed to get onto its back? I catch sight of the Kalm Fangs in the distance, their howls filling the nighttime air as their leader catches the scent of a chocobo within their range of hunting. Damn it.

"All right-" I tug upon the bridle and manage to maneuver the bird closer to the boulders. "You throw me off, and I'm going to simply let them eat you. Got that, buddy?"

He warks in response, seeking the greens I toss upon the ground eagerly as I struggle to grasp the feathers and swing aboard. Reno made this sound easier than it is.

The PHS shrills, shattering the silence. Damn it all to bloody hell!

The chocobo brings his head up in fright, jumping nearly straight up as I frantically grasp the reins and dig my heels into his sides in an effort to prevent myself from being thrown from his back and burgeoned by a pair of wings and talons. Sorry, Reeve. I'll get your phone call later.

I grasp the makeshift reins an turn his beak in the direction of the marshlands, the wind whisking through my hair as the sound of the Kalm Fangs rattles the air behind us, no doubt our presence known.

The PHS continues to shrill, the bird spooked beyond that of instinct and blindly galloping across the uneven ground with shrieks of panic. I grasp the reins in blind panic myself, heart thundering in my chest as the Fangs seize the ridge and gallop alongside us, every intention of making us their meal in their eyes. Shit. I can't use materia or Rekka at this speed. And, if I try to slow this bird down, we're as good as dead.

I reach for the ringing PHS quickly.

"Make this quick, Reeve!" I struggle to wrestle the chocobo back into a straight line, the cliffs dropping dangerously beside us as the Fangs gather behind us. Just a half of a mile and we'll be home free. "I've got a bit of a situation at the moment!"

One of the Kalm Fangs nips at my shoulder, his claws nicking my blazer as he plunges to the ground and collides with the rocks.

"Cissnei," Reeve sighs heavily, as though he's been drinking. "I've got some bad news."

Bad news eh? Figures. I strike one of the bolder ones across the muzzle, watching it fall back and spur the chocobo onwards blindly. If we go down, this will be the last conversation I'll ever have with this man. Unless it involves the immediate situation, I don't want to hear it right this second. "Call me back in about ten minutes. Otherwise, you won't have a Turk to call to tell bad news to!"

With that, I flip the PHS closed and place it back upon my belt, continuing to spur the chocobo across the plains. So close to losing these creatures. Just a quarter of a mile and they'll give up, I hope.

The bird breaks free of the pack with a hostile wark, skipping over a ditch and scrambling up an embankment, reaching the flatter ground with its head low and wings spread in a wild dash for safety, the Kalm Fangs falling farther behind us as the night wind crosses the plains. I just hope we can cross the marshes with this kind of speed.


	35. Missing In Action

**I finally got around to updating this fic and apologize for it taking so long. Unfortunately, you're going to have to wait for more updates as the Muse is heavily involved in her best friend's wedding and until that's over, I just don't have the time to write fan fiction. Thanks folks for understanding and I will be updating in a more timely fashion once this is over. Enjoy this chapter until then and be sure to vote in the new poll.**

**Chapter Thirty Five - Missing In Action**

It's been raining ever since we managed to cross the marshes. As I sit here, shivering in the cold, my uniform and hair completely drenched, listening to the endless droplets of water falling beyond the alcove that puddles at the equally miserable chocobo's feet, I find myself thinking about a time when a mission like this might have been one of great honor. How in my youth, I may have found being assigned the most dangerous mission on the planet actually honorable, noble even. My chance to show off for the superiors - every watchdog's dream.

To be noticed and remembered. To know what things like honor and victory actually meant. But now, as I navigate the narrow trail snaking through the Mythril Mines with a rather bold, if not downright stubborn chocobo in tow, I'm walking a different path - the one of the broken and disgraced.

This path will take me to the grassland plains and from there, to Fort Condor. It is there that I shall meet up with Reeve and learn what really happened at the Temple of the Ancients, get some nice, quiet solitude to once again plot out the crisis at hand, and go from there. The endless cycle I've settled upon being how I am going to spend the rest of my miserable life.

The chocobo warks loudly, the sound reverberating through the narrowing walls of bright, natural blues and greens to make me jump.

"Shut up." I tug upon the reins, not completely certain just why I'm even bothering to drag him where normal chocobos can't really go. Probably because I don't want to end up walking the whole way to Fort Condor when I'm barely trudging along as it is. "I don't see you trying to deal with Reeve."

Speaking of Reeve…In about an hour, it's going to be far too dark to continue through these catacombs of stone and ledges, even with the off-set glow of the materia I'm using to light the way somewhat. Deciding upon a rather roomy section of the alcoves, I drive Rekka into the stone and loop the chocobo's reins around the lower portion of the weapon to prevent it from fleeing and getting itself killed by falling into a chasm or something.

The bird warks in annoyance and tugs upon the reins in response as it lowers itself to the ground out of sheer weariness and pecks around the stones for the last of the greens I cast towards it. I'd hate to be someone who actually breeds these things. Keeping them fed would be a nightmare in costs.

Still. He's at least some form of warning and companionship even in these caverns and I lean back against the cold, damp wall in defeat, flipping the PHS open and glancing down for Reeve's number. I barely get a signal here, but I need to call him back.

Something _was _wrong.

The phone rings on his end for several seconds, a part of me not wanting him to answer. Because no answer is always the best answer under dire circumstances.

"_Cissnei?" _he dares to inquire with this sort of guarded sense of foreboding about him.

"Yeah," I reply, exhaustion weighing heavy in my bones as I let the materia flicker out for the night, the area plunging into complete darkness, much to the protesting wark of the chocobo. It takes energy to make the materia work - energy I don't have.

"_You don't sound well. What happened?" _

Oh. Now he's concerned about my welfare. He can't be concerned in the immediate crisis can he? I sigh and ensure the pistol is within easy reach should I need it to fend off the monsters that call this place home.

"Nothing," I respond in a low, weary whisper. "I had to make camp in the Mythril Mines. Crossing the marshes took too much out of us to make Condor tonight."

"_Us? Who is with you?" _he practically scolds, a deep, vengeful sense of frustration in his tone.

"Wouldn't you like to know?" I cannot help but snipe at him through the darkness. "I'll cut right to the chase, Reeve. What did you want?"

He sighs, no doubt confused and mulling my words over carefully. _"Trouble. In AVALANCHE. Please tell me you are in a location where you can utilize that computer of yours."_

"Not happening, Reeve." The chocobo clicks his beak in annoyance and ruffles his feathers in the darkness. "I can't tell you where exactly I am, nor will I, but whatever it is you need me to research, upload, download, or look at has to wait until we get to Fort Condor. I can't get a good signal here."

"_How far away are you, rough estimate?" _

"Six hours."

"_Make it three." _

"Reeve, with all due respect-"

"_Aerith went missing this morning," _he cuts me off angrily. _"And no one in this god-awful group, myself included, seems to be able to find a woman wearing pink in this god damn jungle!"_

She went missing? Just out of the blue like that? The possibilities of what could happen send a shiver down my spine. It's difficult enough navigating the wilderness if you're skilled in combat, but a mere flower girl without a clue it is just stupid on her behalf.

"When?" I inquire, reaching for that piece of materia, adrenaline taking over. Something feels wrong about this whole scenario. The chocobo warks threateningly.

"_Less than four hours ago."_

Four hours ago…Right about when I hung up on him. I'm not exactly certain just how I could have been of much help to him at that moment. I'm on a whole different continent than they are. It's not like I can just magically track someone without first knowing what direction they might have gone.

"Reeve," I advise, trying to keep my own concern out of my words. "You need to calm down-"

"_How? How in the hell am I supposed to fix this? Sephiroth has the Black Materia and obviously some sort of vendetta against this woman. You of all people should know how dangerous it can be being away from the safety of the group." _

"Yes," I respond. "I'm more than familiar with that sort of scenario. But yelling at me is not going to remedy the crisis. Try to think logical for a change, Reeve. You should be rather good at that."

"_You're right. I am overreacting." _

"No," I retrieve my laptop and meager supplies. "You're under-reacting, majority."

There is an abrupt silence upon the other end, followed by the echo of a hand swiping everything from the top of a table to the floor with a resounding clatter. _"Damn it, Cissnei. Can you get to the point for once when I talk to you?"_

"You said she vanished more than four hours ago? Any idea where she might have been going?"

"_How in the hell would I know something like that? It's not like I have a twenty four hour tab on these guys."_

I fumble through the darkness, trying to make the materia illuminate the catacombs once more so I don't end up taking a tumble into an abyss or something. "And the purpose of Cait Sith was?"

"_Don't get smart with me. I could use some tips on tracking people, if you don't mind." _He's annoyed. Perfect. At least now he might take what I say seriously. Not that this is not serious. It's a crisis of epic proportions.

Because if Aerith is missing, so is the last hope of figuring out the threat level of the Black Materia. And if Shinra is prowling around, not to mention a psychopath with a vendetta, she's as good as dead.

I do not want to have to tell Elmyra bad news. Not after already leaving things as I did.

"Did she take anything with her?" I inquire, the steeled resolve of Cissnei taking over. "Materia? Her stave?"

"_Her stave was missing. Yes." _

Damn it. Okay. Okay. Don't panic. She might still be in the vicinity of wherever the hell they are.

"Where exactly are you?"

"_Gongaga. We came here after Tifa took Cloud out with that punch." _

Okay. Gongaga. Got it. Lot of good that does me, but I do know something about the area. It's impossible to move fast on foot. And Aerith is no athlete. She'll tire easily.

I hold the PHS out before me, trying to remember the right button combination to get what I need from it. By the time I get to Condor, more than seven hours will have passed and any chance of finding this woman alive will be beyond salvaging. The longer a person is missing, I've learned, the worse the odds.

"Okay. Shut up and listen to me." The PHS lights up with a small map of the area, a visible dot appearing on screen before quickly vanishing. It's not much, but it is something I can go off of until I can get to my computer. "How ready is AVALANCHE to move, right this second?"

"_That's the problem!" _he practically shouts, beyond frustrated. _"These people can't agree to save their life. Barret's furious with Cloud and wants him dead. Tifa's beside herself. I've got Yuffie skimming the region with Mr. Highwind, neither one capable of much more than a swearing match. And Cloud's still out of it. It's a nightmare."_

Not exactly what I wanted to hear. Figures the sticking point would be there attitudes.

"Red XIII." I respond. Out of all of them. He would be the fastest and capable of confirming my suspicions. "Send him."

"_He's already out there and I can't exactly reach him by PHS. He is an animal after all."_

Okay. So forget that idea. If he's already out on his version of a hunt, then the whole group needs to go out again. And from what I gather, they're not ready to leave at all until Cloud's situation is figured out. Oh to be a fly on the wall right about now.

"All I can tell you from what I just traced of her PHS signal, is that she's heading north. I wish I could be of more help at the moment-"

"_Realistically speaking, how much ground could she cover in such a short amount of time?"_

"It depends on the terrain," I reply, trying to get that signal back and failing miserably. She's headed north. Good enough for me. "And Aerith's determination to go where she plans on going."

"_So not terribly far then?" _

"Unless she caught a chocobo." I untangle the rope and swing Rekka back over my shoulder, half dragging the irritated chocobo along the chasms at a near jog. This is not good at all.

"_Since when does Gongaga have chocobos? And how? Those birds will knock you on your ass before you get the chance to-" _

"Cetra," I deadpan. "She can probably talk to animals. Catching one would be easy for her."

"_Damn it. In that case-"_

"She's probably got more than fifty miles on you right now. Either way, you won't catch her on your own."

"_But, where would she go?" _he replies, defeated. _"It's not like we did anything to chase her away from us. Except for Cloud, but she seemed to have brushed it off."_

"He gave the Black Materia to Sephiroth. You do the math."

"_I take it you know where she might be?"_

"Not a clue-" The chocobo trots along behind me, its wings beating in protest, but unwilling to draw too far away and run off. "But, that doesn't mean I'm not going to try to use Cait Sith to find out."

"_We're expecting Cloud to wake up here soon," _Reeve answers. _"Tifa's not to sure what his frame of mind is, but I'm hoping he can repeat the muttering in his sleep that we were unable to understand. I'll call you back with what I find out."_

"Sounds good to me. I'm heading to Condor as we speak."

"_I will meet you there. And Cissnei," _he sighs. _"Try not to go missing in action yourself. I would hate to have to explain the loss to Tseng and the others."_

I hang up the phone, not giving him a response.


	36. Condors

**Finally! Got a chance to sit down and write this (all in about two hours total) :-) Yes. The action is going to be starting soon and really taking off from the next chapter onwards. That I can promise. Hang tight folks. You should know by now I never do anything fast or half-arse. Enjoy this update!  
**

**Chapter Thirty Six - Condors**

I rein the chocobo in at the base of the mighty hill and glance up at the elegant golden bird perfected like a gifted sentry atop the reactor-turned-militaristic fort, the rain stinging my eyes. I swear that's all it has done since I left Kalm - each droplet a reminder of the sins I'm in the process of committing.

The condor remains motionless, like an superbly carved statue, every detail perfected, every feather immune to the falling rain - like bronze. Yes. Like sturdy, unfaltering bronze. Its hooked beak reflects the light of torches outside of the uppermost segment of the reactor. Its talons hook around the nest it has built from which it shall rear its young. It is a remarkable sight as the dawn battles the falling rain to breach the horizon.

My chocobo warks, its head lowered in defeat and feather slicked against his sides, legs trembling with exhaustion. I dismount and lead the weary beast towards the entrance to the fort, stroking its beak and hoping that they won't force me to let it go out here to fend for itself. In its current condition, it will most likely be eaten well before it finds a safe place to roost, or another flock to join with.

"I didn't think you'd have the patience to catch a chocobo?"

I hold Rekka up in warning to the voice from the shadows, the familiar Blizzaga spell at the surface of my mind should I need it. The click of a pistol is my response.

"You thoroughly underestimate me," I respond with the coldness of Cissnei. "I suggest you lower your gun immediately. I'm in no mood to deal with riffraff this morning."

He lowers his pistol and steps out from the alcove of dark stone he had emerged from, drenched and looking a bit haggard from the elements. "I wasn't aware I could change categories that quickly."

"Keep pushing your luck and I'll move you lower on the list." I swing Rekka over my shoulder and lead the chocobo out of the rain to a small area under the rocks where some wild greens are sprouting. He should be fine here for a while, maybe. "If the fate of the known world did not depend upon your information and ensuring you survive, I'd be happily back in Kalm right now pretending to be a normal undercover civilian. Now, if you insist on wasting my time, I must advise against it, as I've better aim than you do, places to be, and people who need my talents."

Reeve allows a brief hint of a smile and points to a break in the rocks where a worn rope dangles. "Well, fortunately for you, I won't be wasting your time. After you."

"I'm not going to get shot by these people the moment I climb this rope am I?"

"I've already taken care of things. Believe it or not, you're more of an asset to these people than you realize."

Great. So now he's outsourcing my skills without my knowledge. Just what I need to hear today. Next thing you know, I'll be forming a group to rival AVALANCHE. Scary thought.

It doesn't take long to climb the ridiculous excuse for a rope these people think will protect them against ground intruders - just longer than it should have taken me. From a strategic point of view, it's rather brilliant. But, to the everyday visitor, it's downright annoying as all hell. I can only imagine some of the citizens holding out here's thoughts on this method of doing things.

Then again, Fort Condor was never meant to be just that - a fort. It once was a highly sophisticated Mako Reactor according to legend, and then one day a giant golden bird decided to call it home and well, the rest is simple history. The people built the land up, devised a group of underground tunnels, and essentially created their own version of a military and government against Shinra.

Not even the Turks dare to even try to take this place from these folks, and if I can help it, I'm not about to do anything that will get me thrown down the hill, probably to be fed to that damn condor.

Reeve gives me a sympathetic look and points to a rickety ladder leading upwards and for a moment, I consider shoving him back down the rope he struggled with. This is a bad idea. Scratch that. Bad is not even close to what it is.

An elder gentlemen looks up from his spot at a table where he had been reading and adjusts his spectacles as though studying the two of us. For a moment, I cannot help but feel somewhat safe that Reeve is standing here with me, because I'm not sure just what I might have said in this situation that would not have gotten me killed. If it's one thing I've learned about rebel groups, it is to just shut up and don't speak unless spoken to.

"Elder," he begins and points to me. "This is Jessie. She's a colleague of mine who, like myself, shares concerns about the current activity in Shinra's ranks and its relation to your endangered condors."

Well, so I guess he can lie after all. Still, the idea of him using my real name bothers me, even though at this point, it is all he can use unless I want to be associated with the Turks.

"Well, you obviously have something against Shinra, to climb the whole way up here so early in the morning. It is hard to find young people who share our concern nowadays."

"You have no idea."

Thanks, Reeve. You're really something, making me out to be something that I am not. Fantastic.

The elder man nods and takes a sip of his coffee, his miner's lantern casting a haunting glow over the table where a pile of disorganized papers resides. "Well. We can always use young people fighting for a cause. Shinra's been scouting our territory an awful lot lately."

I glance towards Reeve in mild surprise. The last I heard of Shinra involving themselves with Fort Condor, Cloud and the others sent them scurrying away with their tails between their legs. To hear that they are on a recent scouting mission is simply disturbing.

Huge Materia. The words haunt the back of my mind. They're seeking the Huge Materia that condor protects along with its young.

"Should the situation warrant it, then yes, I shall lend my hand in protecting your condors against Shinra." And it is true. I'm due for a good tussle with these guys.

Reeve looks at me in surprise, apparently not expecting me to be so eager to join forces with a supposed enemy of Shinra. It's not like I have too much of a choice now, do I?

Less than ten minutes later, the fine folks of Condor have managed to set Reeve and I up with a small living quarters barely big enough for the pair of us to comfortably navigate without tripping over one another. I'll keep my comments to myself on the arrangement.

"All right," I tap my foot against the ground in annoyance once everyone is out of earshot. "Now that I've basically sold my soul, I want an update on AVALANCHE and if you found Aerith yet."

He nods and points to the computer. "I've good news and bad news."

"Can we have bad news first?" I take a seat beside him as he pulls up the information he needs and links it directly into Cait Sith's data banks. From the looks of things, he's been traveling for quite some time since he actually took control of said robot in question.

"Straight to the point you are. All right. The bad news is we still haven't found Aerith."

So she's still out there. Okay. I hadn't expected them to find her. A Cetra is a little like a Turk in a way, when they don't want to be found, you're best not even trying, because you won't find them. "And the good?"

"We know where she's headed and have the quicker method of reaching said destination in question. We'll be there in a couple of hours."

"And you found this out how again?" I cannot say I'm not impressed. He might have actually done something brilliant on his own for a change.

"Mr. Strife was the one who informed us of the destination. He claims Aerith 'spoke' to him in his dreams and even showed him the path she was taking."

Well. Cloud always has talked in his sleep and has a knack for revealing things that are imprinted in his memory. Although, it just doesn't add up. Something is wrong.

"You can confirm this?"

"Not exactly," he continues typing, images filling the screen. "But, I do have reason to believe him. He was rather shaken about the incident and didn't even remember that he gave Sephiroth the Black Materia. Fortunately, your mention of her going north was enough to convince me that Strife might be onto something. There's even more bad news though."

"I expected nothing less, Reeve."

"Sephiroth apparently knows where she's going too. And, unlike Aerith, Sephiroth is a little more advanced with that blade of his. It's going to come down to battle between AVALANCHE and SOLDIER's own. And I'm not terribly sure there will be much standing should they meet."

Master of the understatement. He'll kill her before she even knows he's there. And if AVALANCHE is this disorganized now, there's no way in hell they'll survive against a man like Sephiroth. I cannot help but feel that Reeve is not giving me the whole story.

"Does Shinra know you're missing?"

"That's why I decided to track you down while I was under the radar," he responds. "I won't get another chance to talk to you face to face, as Sir Rufus is out this week. Apparently Scarlet is hot on this whole Huge Materia thing and the fact that Sephiroth has something more than capable of destroying the world has them actually doing something constructive for a change."

"Your solution is to set up camp where they'll no doubt try to strike? Your lack of basic foresight astounds me sometimes, Reeve."

"Trust me, I know what I'm doing."

"You had better, because if I have to fight one more unnecessary battle, you're a dead man - literally this time."

"Think of it as good practice on your little quest to get revenge then."

"Little quest to get revenge?" I scowl at him, obviously not believing I am actually teaming up with this man for the greater good. "You need to seriously reevaluate your relationship with the Turks and how we handle our affairs regarding revenge."

Because when we seize the opportunity for revenge, we go all in and don't fold until there's nothing left of the other person. It's the fact that I actually may get the opportunity to go after Scarlet that doesn't sit well.

"I'll put it on my to-do list."

"So, you said you knew where Aerith and Sephiroth were heading?"

"Yes," Reeve's eyes narrow, as though he does not wish to reveal anything unless prompted. With a sigh, he looks at me and turns the computer towards me to show me what he has on screen. "The City of the Ancients."


	37. City of the Ancients

**Wow. I'm really sorry folks that it took me so long to get an update in and I hope this update makes up for the long gap between updates. I have my reasons for doing so, please forgive me. (Insert groveling for mercy Muse here.) I'm kind of in the middle of a Muse-sized crisis at the moment and fan fiction has become a distant backburner project which I will someday find the time to actually work on sooner or later. (My guess is the holidays at the earliest. The updates are coming. I promise.) That said, I want to thank everyone who has favorited this story as well as my other one, left reviews, the nice PMs as well as the threats to take away my secret stash of chocolate trying to find out if I am still alive out there and when I will update again, and overall, everyone who has been following the fic thus far. Without the support of ya'll, I would not be able to actually motivate myself enough to write these things. Give yourselves a nice pat on the back and hopefully, the updates will be coming faster from now on and I won't take so long next time. I'm three months behind as it is.**

**Chapter Thirty Seven - City of the Ancients**

My day 'officially' begins with Reeve waking me from my brief attempt at actual sleep by shouting something about a Lunar Harp and Cloud being the closest thing to a complete moron he's ever seen. Fancy _that _being even possible. No matter how hard I try to drown out the engineer's grumbling and muttering about the apparent status of the situation by trying to look like I'm sleeping comfortably, I cannot seem to escape his words.

Just what is this Lunar Harp and what does it have to do with something called a Sleeping Forest?

Then again--I shift under the blanket with a low growl of annoyance--this is AVALANCHE we are dealing with. And as much as I want this to not be my problem, it is. No amount of avoidance is going to get me out of this situation.

There is a crash, followed by numerous swears, which prompts me to abandon all hope of catching up on my sleep in favor of rescuing my computer from being destroyed.

"I'm not fixing that if you break it," is all I say as I cast the blanket aside with a yawn.

He looks at me caught somewhere surprise and annoyance. "You're awake?"

"I'm a fairly light sleeper. All of us Turks are."

Yeah. And with the amount of noise you're making right now, Reeve, I wouldn't be surprised if you could not awaken the dead. I take a seat beside him, trying to rub the sleep from my eyes. "What happened now?"

"Lunar Harp," he responds, irritated. Okay? Like I'm supposed to know what _that _is? "We're losing valuable time because that blonde idiot cannot find a decent place to get those archeologists to dig!"

Aerith is one step between a madman and the Lifestream and they're solving the problem by digging in the dirt. Their intelligence astounds me sometimes. I yawn and glance down at the computer screen to where Reeve is pouring over a map of what appears to be a dig site somewhere close to Bone Village. Or was that the name of the place? I cannot remember. I was never assigned to that region during my career. That was always Rod's department.

The screen blinks erratically for several moments and the echo of an explosion fills the region. Okay. So I guess they use dynamite to locate whatever this Lunar Harp is. Some things I will never understand. Reeve looks up at me as the familiar form of a frustrated Cloud Strife storms past with Tifa in tow towards a golden box marked 'finds.'

Seconds later there is a cheer of joy from Reeve and had I been standing closer, the man probably would have hugged me in nothing short of sheer creepiness. This must be some harp.

"Holy be praised, there is a god!" He points to the screen where Cloud triumphantly holds up what appears to be a small bronze, half moon shaped harp of some sort. Doesn't look terribly special to me, but whatever floats their boat, or in this case, awakens their forest.

Truth be told, the 'sleeping' forest as it is known as, from what I can tell of the poor quality video imaging being transmitted via Cait Sith at the moment appears to be little more than a gathering of sentry-like trees wreathed in this odd, sickly green fog. Not your normal, clings at ground level, clears up as the sun rises humidity fog, but a type that seems to blanket everything in something not too unlike a wall of some sort. It stretches for as far as the eye can see.

Just looking at it sends an ominous chill down my spine. Something is definitely wrong here and if ever there were warning signs to tell people to turn back, this forest is being more than generous in offering them.

"Kind of spooky don't you think?" Reeve says and directs his robot to follow Cloud into the mist, static invading the screen for several long seconds. "Kind of hard to believe Aerith would go into a place like this on her own."

"Tell me about it. I don't think this place likes them too much."

Against the fog, one of the trees stands with its petrified branches curled downwards and I cannot help but notice Yuffie cower closer to Barret for some oddball reason. Boy is she cozying up to the wrong person. If he is half as spooked by the forest as he was when we took a field trip to the Train Graveyard, then we'll be in for a real treat.

"_You sure about this, Spike?" _

Cloud gives Barret a look of indifference and holds the Lunar Harp up, his fingers strumming the ancient strings with uncertainty.

A low, almost sad attempt at a song mimics the fog, the strings snapping beneath his fingers in protest. Reeve shakes his head with a defeated sigh as the fog remains in place.

"Guess we wasted our time here. Apparently only a Cetra can pass…"

"Hold on a second, Reeve. Look." I point to the screen, watching a small tear in the fog. It begins like a small thread, and expands into a bright corridor of petrified wood and what appears to be salt-washed coral. There is a collective gasp from the group in question as the slumbering forest fills with light through its canopy and the remainder of the fog lifts before them and closes in behind them to block out intruders. These Cetra must have been terrifying people to craft something such as this.

For the next fifteen minutes, we watch as Cloud, the oh-so-fearless leader, leads AVALANCHE deeper into the coral canyons and along what appears to be a pathway of carefully laid shells forming a ridge leading to a deeper segment of the canyon. Fascinating. We are seeing what no regular human being has ever seen in their lifetime and more than likely shall never see again. It is a special privilege to behold the colorful coral twisting upwards around the petrified overgrown roots of a fallen trees and the bleached pathway.

This same shell path broadens into an incredible array of streets and what appears to be an intersection leading towards several stone buildings built right into the coral as though they naturally belong there. For a moment, Reeve and I can only stare with child-like fascination at such a wonder as the mighty green layers of coral in the distance and the morbid fact that people once called this place home. This is the true City of the Ancients. The real deal.

The group breaks off the main path and enters the stone, no, shell, definitely some sort of shell dwelling to the left of a side street. I cannot help but wonder at the size of the mighty shell and what might have called it home before a Cetra. The door had long since rotted off, if it even existed at all, leaving sunlight pouring through windows carved with near perfection to fall over clay jars and an unusual aqua glowing stone. It is not materia from what I can tell, but whatever it is, no one in the group is about to mess with it. For all we know, the spirits of the dead could be lurking there. It is best to let the dead rest.

The path outside of the house continues along walls of dark brown stone and into a perfectly carved, yet crumbled from age, archway full of pale marble that extends in a perfect cylindrical curve. Even Reeve is taken back by the structural advancement of such a dwelling for its time.

At its center rests a giant glowing crystal-like piece of stone that is difficult to make out on the screen. This place must have been important to the Cetra. Something big must have occurred at this particular landmark. It looks like a gathering place of some sort. Like an amphitheater. Definitely some sort of amphitheater.

Reeve may have designed Midgar, but he's got nothing on the Cetra.

Satisfying their curiosity like a group of lost tourists, they eventually make their way out of the meeting hall and deeper into the city where the shell houses become more frequent and more inviting as the sun begins to set over the rising mountains to the north.

It doesn't take them long to find a semi-inhabitable dwelling where most of the utensils are still intact and well preserved.

"_How about we rest here for a little while," _Tifa suggests, much to the benefit of the group. They look tired from wandering about for most of the day. Then again, I can only imagine how they must feel. If navigating the closest thing to the wastelands they are going to find is anything like what we just witnessed, they will be dead on their feet.

There is a staggering vote of agreement amongst the group, despite the fact that Aerith is still missing and they haven't even begun to scratch the surface of this place searching for her yet.

"So, what do you think of the place so far? Any ideas?"

I lean by back against the wall and watch as Reeve begins sifting through his data, no doubt the engineer portion of him taking over. Typical. It doesn't surprise me though. Hell, I'm even interested in this place now. Must be even more unreal up close.

"It's a big place," I respond, trying to come up with something he can use to his advantage. "My guess is that she wouldn't be wasting her time sightseeing though. You said she just up and vanished without so much as a word after the Temple of the Ancients?"

"Unfortunately. I was hoping she would have left a trail of some sort to follow, but so far, nothing."

"I never said I was a miracle worker, Reeve. People don't just up and leave unless they have someplace to go," I cannot help but inform him. It's not my fault they lost track of her. "And since she was not in that amphitheater place, then my best guess would be someplace bigger, more open. She's clever, and sure she has the whole Cetra thing going on with the voices and such, but I doubt she is terribly smart when it comes to covering all bases."

"So we wait for her to make a mistake and go from there?"

"There is no time for that. She obviously knows something the rest of us do not. Therefore, one has to assume she knows exactly where it is she is going and what she is doing. Finding her should be their biggest priority over resting."

The presence of someone moving around the shell house alerts us to something happening a short time later and it doesn't take Reeve long to bring up the footage of Cloud standing there, alone, listening to something only he can hear and looking a little bit like a zombie.

I've never seen that look before. His eyes are narrowed as he stares at the doorway, his lip slightly twisted into the first hint of a smirk before quickly vanishing. Something is wrong. Desperately wrong here.

"_Cloud?" _Tifa interrupts his thoughts, but the look remains for a fraction of a second longer.

"_Aerith is here," _his voice is low, monotone even. Not the Cloud I know. _"And so is Sephiroth." _

The way he says it makes me look towards Reeve with a look that bids him to do something, anything. Something is wrong here. Don't they see it? Can't they hear it in his voice?

"_You serious, Spike?" _Barret replies, wiping the sleep from his eyes.

"_How can you tell?" _Tifa inquires, no doubt suspicious that something is up. If anyone knows Cloud, it is her. Thank God for small miracles.

"_I just know," _he replies without so much as meeting her eyes through the darkness. _"I can feel it in my soul." _

"_What in the hell are we waiting around here for then? Let's go get her!"_

Well said, Barret. Reeve adjusts something on Cait Sith and the image shifts ever so slightly to bring the darkness of night in the City of the Ancients into view. Can't they move any faster. The urgency of the situation nags at the back of my mind as I can only watch the events unfolding and Reeve tries his best to move them along.

It is darker than usual out there as AVALANCHE makes its way through the city in pursuit of Cloud, who moves like a man on a mission, but there is something off about him. Something sinister in the way he moves. It's almost as though, no, it can't be.

"What?" Reeve prods, nervously typing in his commands as calmly as he can. "What do you see?"

"He doesn't seem himself. He's not moving like Cloud Strife would move."

At this, Reeve gives me a look that I cannot even begin to define. "Maybe you need to get some sleep."

I shake my head and point to the screen. "I'm not the one out of my mind right now. That may be Cloud, but, that's not Cloud. You said he handed over the Black Materia to Sephiroth back at the temple, as though he was possessed, well…"

"Should I inform the group? Even though they consider me to be the world's greatest traitor at this point and time?"

"They won't listen to you. This is one of those moments you want me to be wrong, Reeve. Trust me. I want to be wrong."

Cloud leads the group through the narrow confines of the green coral ledges forming the focal point of the city, emerging along the shores of a magnificent lake. Radiant, hostile moonlight spills down from a break in the stone to bath the waters in silver that drips from the mighty spiked shell hidden from the world by the canyons. There. Something is there. A shadow of some sort, on the outer fringe.

In an instant it is gone, but Cloud continues to lead the group onward, as though he knows exactly where he is going.

The interior of the shell heralds a hostile presence, moonlight shimmering across rows of aqua stones, casting them in a haunting glow. Static invades the image upon the screen, making Reeve swear in frustration. Something else is there with them. Something terrible.

Reeve gasps in soft surprise as a crystal staircase emerges in the center of the shell, spiraling downwards to what appears to be an underground cavern of some sort. Crystals. There are so many crystals. Radiant, glowing, pulsing with the voices of the Ancients.

And a castle. It looks so much like a castle as the group emerges on level ground to face the majestic body of water sparkling in the moonlight. Under the lake. They must be under the lake somehow. Is that even possible? It's so beautiful.

It's an altar. I cannot help but feel uneasy at the sight. A beautiful altar. I cringe to think what it may have been used for in the past.

And in the center of the altar kneels the last of the Cetra herself, oblivious to the world around her and looking as innocent as humanly possible. It's haunting. Her head is bowed in prayer, her eyes closed in deep concentration.

Praying? She's praying?

Cloud pauses at the stepped pillars leading up to the altar and motions that he will go on alone to get her.

"Reeve," I warn. "Don't let him go alone. Trust me. Something is wrong here."

"I wish I could," he slams a palm upon the table in frustration. "Damn controls aren't responding though. I keep losing my signal down there. There's too much interference."

"Damn useless technology," I frantically seize control of the computer, wrestling with the coding in an effort to prevent the inevitable. Come on. Respond damn you. Please. There is a glint of steel against the moonlight and Reeve's eyes widen in surprise as the man who is supposed to be helping her seemingly becomes a completely different person in an instant.

No. Cloud, don't! I watch in horror as he brings the blade down without a hint of human restraint. This cannot be happening! Aerith, why don't you see him standing right there, about to kill you! Move dammit!

I can only watch, frozen, as the Buster Sword swings downward. There is a second glint of steel that catches from the top of the screen and if Rekka was in my hands at this particular moment, I'm afraid I may have thrown it out of instinct. Why didn't I follow them. Why in the hell didn't I take my opportunity and go after them?

No. "Move damn you."

"_Cloud! Stop!" _Tifa screams and rushes forward.

It happens in an instant. The Buster Sword misses its mark as Cloud reels back with a look of horror upon his face, as though puzzled as to how he even got there and why he is holding a sword over an innocent flower girl's head.

The second glint of steel catches the moonlight from above in a sweeping arc downward, the shadowy form of Sephiroth driving it down without mercy. Aerith barely has time to look up in mild surprise as the blade of MasaMune slices through her back and impales her, crimson blood spilling upon the pale marble of the altar.

For a moment, time stops. With agonizing slowness, Sephiroth draws the blade from her back and she falls, a small, white orb clicking as it falls from the ribbon in her hair and vanishes behind the altar into the water. Blood. There is so much blood. It is a fatal wound. It has to be. There is no way she can survive something of that magnitude. It's impossible.

This cannot be happening. It just cannot. Please let this be a horrible nightmare. Don't let her be dead.

Cloud seizes the body before it can strike the ground and looks up at Sephiroth. There is hatred in those eyes. Raw, feral hatred wrought about by untamed sorrow.

That bastard is talking, rambling something about going north to the Promise Land and rejoining the planet. But none of us are hearing it. He murdered an innocent woman in cold blood. He _killed _her.

There was no mercy in this kill. No mercy whatsoever. I dig my fingers into my palms as Reeve wraps an arm around my shoulders and draws me against him, tears in his eyes. I cannot look him in the eye. I simply cannot.

Cloud gently lays Aerith's body against the altar's surface and stands up, his hand upon the hilt of the Buster Sword. And all we can do, is sit here watching the aftermath of a tragedy beyond that of human understanding.


	38. Funerals

**Whoot. Seeing that the Muse has just now checked her calendar and realized it IS November…Yes. She is **_**that **_**far behind. Fellow writers everywhere should know what that means and what it now means for all of my fellow readers. :Evil grin: You folks have NaNoWriMo to thank for the significant amount of updates headed your way. Don't know what that is? Look it up and you'll see why I'm so excited to get writing. ;) Let the first of many new updates commence! (Fans of One Hundred Tiny Missions, don't hate me, but December is when you will be getting your updates on that fic. November belongs to this fic.) ;) **

**Chapter Thirty Eight - Funerals  
**

From an early age, I was taught that the word funeral meant final resting place. Funerals were never ranked very high on the list of things a Turk usually attends. There was never any real need to usually. Once a person was dead, they were simply that, dead. There was no hoping for a miracle, no child-like stories of ghosts and spirits of the dead remaining amongst the living as lingering memories capable of offering some semblance of solace to the living.

No. Only cold, cruel reality. That person was gone, the body remaining only as a shell left behind. The funeral attendance only served as a grim reminder that said person in question would no longer be around to greet in the mornings or scold you for doing something stupid.

I've been to quite a few funerals in my short lifetime. The most vivid ones being the ones Tseng forced us to attend. Not because he could, or even because he wanted to. But because we owed that person to be there for them until that last shovelful of earth was in place and the flowers laid upon the grave. When someone in the watchdog pack falls, it is our duty to watch over them until the final end.

Odd. Out of all of those funerals, I only cried at two of them. The first which I was directly involved with. I cried for Zack when we buried him. It wasn't even a funeral per se. More of an afterthought, the conclusion to a mission well failed. And only Reno and Rude were witnesses to what became of the body. Only four of us know the exact spot where he is buried.

The second, I never imagined I would be witnessing as an innocent, useless bystander with an equally useless engineer of all people for company.

It happened so fast. Too fast. The glint of the blade in the moonlight as he committed a heinous crime against humanity. No. That was no man who committed that murder. That was a monster. A cruel, collective, inhumane monster. There was no humanity in those soulless eyes of his. He wasn't even a phantom.

A monster. Just another goddamn monster. A monster who got away with it.

Reeve continues to sit beside me, his arm around my shoulders, trembling and no doubt thinking that there was something we should have been able to do. I'm not sure just why I am even still sitting here, letting him hold me as the tears continue their silent trek forth from their prison. When this is all over, we will never speak of this moment again. Funerals make people do odd things.

They buried her in the lake outside of the shell containing the altar where she died. I shouldn't even say they. _They _could only watch as Cloud carried her up those crystal stairs, sobbing, his strong façade destroyed by the vengeful reality that he was the loser this round.

Zack wept for Aerith like I wept for Zack. It is a painful wound greater than any sword could ever inflict. The type of wound that never stops bleeding and can only be bandaged by lies that you did your best to prevent it from ever occurring.

"Do you think they found one another yet?" I ask, my voice weak but too adamant to completely fail. Reeve looks down at me out of sympathy.

"Zack?"

"Yeah. Do you think they're happy together?"

"I'm sure they are," he answers, caught off-guard by the question and obviously pondering the thought himself. He doesn't understand this anymore than I do right now. None of us do. Sephiroth. The monstrosity that should not exist, has never seemed more real than now.

I don't know how long we watched the lake waters as the makeshift funeral took place. Looking back, I don't even know how we _could _watch. We are outsiders to their pack. People who do not belong in such a private moment, if one can even call it that. There is no grave marking for her, like Zack. Only a grave known to those who were there when it happened.

"North," is all I say as the comforting sounds of Fort Condor's inhabitants stirring to life for the morning slowly chips away at the shock. "They'll go north."

"Modeoheim?"

"Is there no other place for them to go?"

"What about you? Will you go back to Kalm?" It is less of a question and more of a thought nagging at the haunted engineer's mind. For a moment, I choose to remain silent as I gather my blazer and fold it over the back of the chair from where it accidentally fell during the moments immediately after the murder and Reeve had accidentally knocked over a chair by mistake.

Go back…

What do I tell them? What do I tell to the one woman still holding out hope that her little girl is okay with Cloud and the others? That she is safe and protected by their presence. That she will come home in one piece and have quite the story to tell about seeing the world from a different perspective.

How do you tell someone about something that is so unreal that you yourself do not even believe it? How do you tell someone that their loved one is dead and never going to come back to them and that they can never even visit the gravesite?

"No," I respond and stare at the closed laptop, the watchdog within holding out her steeled resolve this round despite being defeated. "It is not my place to tell them about this."

He looks at me with sympathy in his eyes but remains silent. He knows I have my reasons and for that I am thankful. I don't think I could handle him prying into my personal life right now as to why I might be avoiding Elmyra and little Marlene.

There is a shout of warning from somewhere beyond the tiny room we're calling our temporary home. That didn't sound too good. I reach for Rekka out of habit at the same time Reeve reaches for the pistol he keeps under his jacket for emergencies.

Something's happened. I can feel it in the air. The scurrying of people out there in a mad hurry somewhere. Someone else is here with us. Someone unwelcome to the fine folks calling this place their stronghold.

There is a sharp knock upon our door and Reeve answers. It is the elderly gentleman from earlier. Haggard and still clutching a lantern in his hands, he eyes the two of use through weary eyes. "Look alive. We're being invaded."

"Shinra? Are you certain?"

"Sure as hell looks like them," the elder gentleman replies, obviously in a hurry. Reeve looks at me with a look that I've rarely seen him use before.

"You stay here. I'll be right back."


	39. In the Shadows

**This is a relatively short piece this time folks. (The Muse got swamped with 12 hour days at work lately, which is hindering things a bit, but I'm trying to keep up.) Hopefully it still lives up to standard and gets the job done. ;) Enjoy folks! **

**Chapter Thirty Nine - In the Shadows**

It appears that the term invasion is a bit of an over exaggeration to put it in mild terms. Either the good folks here at Fort Condor are swarmed by Shinra soldiers on such a daily basis that everything is considered an invasion, or someone just didn't have their morning cup of coffee. I'm not exactly certain just which one it is yet.

One thing I do know though, and call it a watchdog's finest intuition, I'm never going to have a better opportunity than this to figure out just what I am up against. I kneel down at the fringe of a ladder leading to the floor below where a rather amusing conversation is taking place.

"Fancy meeting your kind here," she says, the fringe of her carmine dress visible in the dull, flickering light as several of Condor's finest aim their weapons at the blonde-haired bitch of Weapons Research. "What's the occasion, Tuesti? Lose your protractor or something?"

"Have you never heard of diplomatic negotiations?" Reeve snarls. I hate to break it too him, but right now, he's about as imposing as a Jack Russell Terrier to a Pit Bull and about a fraction as threatening. It's embarrassing actually.

Scarlet smirks that evil little smirk of hers and gestures to the two Shinra MPs accompanying her. "Haven't you heard? Diplomacy is as dead as this reactor core."

Reeve's eyes narrow and he takes a bold step closer to her, only to be forced backwards as she points to him as if to sic her proverbial hounds upon him. "That gives you no right to storm in here as you have!"

"Touchy today. This meager dump is small potatoes compared to what we'll have in our possession in a matter of days. Don't be difficult. You're embarrassing yourself."

"I'm warning you, Scarlet. You are in no position to make demands at this point."

There is the click of rifles being employed and out of instinct I take a few steps away from my current position, eyeing up my opponent through the dull light. Her back is to me, exposed and unguarded. Gods it is tempting. Just the right angle for a quick pistol shot and we'd be up one. That little voice inside me bids me to wait it out though. If I kill her now, there is no telling just what will become of Reeve. And right now, I need him alive.

He locks eyes with Scarlet yet again, silently fuming over the turn of events as she merely strides past him and stands before the elder gentleman who I assume leads this little rebel group.

"You may think you are being heroes for whatever pathetic breed of poultry living up there is. But you cannot stand much longer against the iron-fist of Shinra and live to tell the tale. We own you. And we will own your children's children for generations to come. Now be a good little boy and give us what we want."

"What they want is for you to take your sorry excuse for an army and go screw yourself."

Well played, Reeve. I'll have to remember that one. Scarlet crosses her arms across her chest with an indignant grunt of amusement.

"Pity. And we were prepared to negotiate too. Oh well. It appears we'll have to do this the hard way."

There is the shrill of a PHS and for a moment, Scarlet scrunches her nose at the prospect of actually answering it. After the third ring though, she does and turns her back to Reeve.

"What." She raises an eyebrow and smirks. "Really now? I suppose that would be fun to see. Consider it done."

She flips the phone shut and gives Reeve the evil eye. "It appears this will have to wait another day. Be a good little engineer and study hard. We'll see how your diplomacy stands against a battalion of my finest soldiers. Enjoy your cup of coffee, Tuesti. You'll need it."

That witch of a woman turns and ushers her men towards the exit of Fort Condor and for a moment, there is only the tense silent anger of a group of men hell bent on plotting their revenge against her. I'm never going to get a better opportunity than this.

"And where do you think you're going?" Reeve questions with a cup of coffee in hand as I rifle through my meager belongings and throw my blazer on with great haste in the moments that follow Scarlet's departure.

I swing the shuriken over my shoulder and glance at him with a faint attempt at a smirk. "Hunting."

"You're what?" he says in disbelief. "Is there no one in this god-awful place with some semblance of sanity left?"

"Don't misunderstand," I warn him. "Aren't you the least bit curious as to what she was talking about on her phone? Of what she is going to obtain?"

"She's going to kill you, you know that? That woman _is_ out to get you."

"The feeling is mutual," I reply, checking to ensure my shuriken is outfitted with the proper materia combination just in case I encounter trouble. Not that I expect to or anything. I intend on being more careful than usual this time. "Don't worry. I'll be back before dark. Promise."

He merely looks at me as I climb down the ladder and begin following my foe.


	40. Base Camp

**Sorry about the long delay folks. Holiday hours at work leaves little time for fan fiction and completely screwed over my Nanowrimo plan. Oh well. You still have this quick update folks. Hopefully I'll get caught up here soon. Until then, enjoy. : )**

**Chapter Forty - Base Camp**

Sometimes I wonder about my own sanity. They say that a wise watchdog is one who has chased a rabbit through hell and back and survived to tell the tale. It is said that a watchdog with that sort of wisdom is a fearsome beast indeed, because they can not only think, but they know how to survive against incredible odds. Tseng tried his damnedest to warn us about situations that may turn us into wise watchdogs, because in the Turk pack, anything smarter than yourself was something that needed to be dealt with before it got the chance to come back and bite you in the ass.

Unfortunately, wisdom comes in many shapes and forms by today's standards. And watchdog's come in different breeds now.

The rain hasn't let up any since my arrival at Condor and it doesn't appear to want to let up anytime soon. It's perfect tracking weather.

I crouch lower to the ground and glance at the footprints in the mud leading south to a pair of very distinctive tire tracks. A carriage fit for a witch. Luck is on my side, unless they went to Junon, which it doesn't look like they did. Which means they are still staking out Condor for that damn Huge Materia she wants so badly. They didn't travel far.

It doesn't take me long to follow the trail through the plains and into the closest thing to a forest on this side of the map. Well, perhaps calling it a forest is a bit of an overstatement. It's basically a cluster of trees that appear to have been cut down and cleared out to make way for some semblance of a base camp within a few miles of Condor for easy access to the place. Efficient indeed, smart, not likely. If the fine folks of Condor were to somehow become informed that this place exists and had the balls to look out their window from time to time, they might not get attacked so damn much.

I duck behind one of the last remaining trees, careful to keep to the grass and avoid the mud as much as humanly possible. No sense leaving my own footprints behind to be tracked. I watch the lanterns flicker and vanish into a row of canvas tents where shadowy figures stand around discussing important business. Do they even know how easy of a target they pose like that. If I really wanted to, I could fire my pistol and hit one of them without even needing to aim. But that is not what concerns me at the moment.

This woman isn't just planning an attack, she's planning a siege. And a big one at that.

A Shinra MP marches towards another stationary guard and begins discussing something with him before turning and resuming his marked patrol of the encampment. Looks like she brought the whole brigade to party at Condor. Thunder roars in the distance and lightning flashes, the rain falling harder. For the better part of thirty minutes, I merely watch the spectacle, studying their every movement. Because the wise watchdog is the one that watches vigilantly and learns quickly how this whole thing works. But the wiser fox is the one who learns the inner workings of the chicken coop and just where the farmer is at all times.

Predictable. When you boil Scarlet down to the core, she's just that, predictable. The third to the last tent in the row. That is the one I want.

The MP sentry crumbles to the muddy ground at my feet without making a sound. Amateurs. You would think with as much clout this particular branch of the military is rumored to have they would at least show some semblance of awareness to their surroundings. Before his comrade can discover my presence, I quickly lay him out with a swift strike and steal into the darkness along the row of tents. I have less than ten minutes at most to get in and get out with what I hope to find out from my foe before anyone finds out I'm even here.

"Those morons couldn't find water in a lake if someone threw them into it." Scarlet's grating tone fills the air through the thick canvas of the tent, dangerously close.

"That may be true, but according to Reno, they were spotted somewhere in the Snow Fields leading to Modeoheim." There is a shuffling sound as the familiar tone of Heidegger fills the air.

Scarlet snickers at the prospect. "He couldn't identify a wild chocobo if someone pointed one out to him, let alone AVALANCHE."

Don't talk about Reno like that. He may come across as an idiot, but he is a brilliant one. If he says he saw AVALANCHE, he definitely saw AVALANCHE. Snow fields leading to Modeoheim eh? I was right. They're following Sephiroth northward.

"Rude confirms his story though, so right now we have no choice but to follow his information and hope it leads to AVALANCHE and Sephiroth."

Again, there is more snickering from Scarlet, which prompts me to move closer to the opening of the tent to listen.

"Have you ever considered that your watchdogs might be getting a little too lenient in their duties with this assignment? They have grown lazy, Heidegger. Unlike _my _soldiers, yours lack the discipline and respect required to tangle with a group like AVALANCHE."

Heidegger leans back in his chair as though unphased by the accusation. "They are only useful for this mission. Afterwards they will be dealt with accordingly."

"Call it what you want, but I am not going to let this group of rogues slip through my fingers because of your incompetent pack. _I_ intend on getting what I want, and I always get my way. In a matter of days, that Black Materia will be in my hands courtesy of AVALANCHE."

The very thought of someone like Scarlet having such a dangerous item in her possession scares the hell out of me. Not even AVALANCHE could keep something like that for more than ten seconds in their possession before Cloud handed it over to the most dangerous man on the planet right now. Imagine what the most dangerous woman on the planet could do with something like that in her hands.

And where in the hell is Rufus in all of this. Surely that little arrogant son of a bitch would know that his own underlings appear to be plotting a coup against him. Then again, that is none of my business. But AVALANCHE is my business and I'll be damned if I let these two get their hands on the Black Materia.

"My Turks are tracking them as we speak."

"Well, on the greater than off-chance your watchdogs let AVALANCHE slip past them again, I intend on following them with a few of my own battalions. I will stop them before they get beyond Modeoheim, whether you want me to or not. We cannot afford for AVALANCHE to get away again. Where are those miserable excuses for minions? They were supposed to report to me five minutes ago."

She turns and storms out of the tent to find the two guards I took care of removing from her service and to my surprise, Heidegger waddles after her. You would swear those two are married or something. Looks like I won't have to deal with him tonight after all. Not like it would have been a problem. He may talk big about overseeing the Turks, but he sure as hell is not equipped to deal with one in combat.

I slip into the tent and immediately locate the table the two of them were pouring over. Jackpot. Looks like they intend on following AVALANCHE beyond Modeoheim to Northern Crater, if this map is accurate. All of the footpaths are highlighted and with any luck, this is her only copy of such an old looking map.

I grab the map of the glacier and duck back into the rain, taking cover behind one of the vehicles before cutting up the hill and into the forest to take the shortest route back to my own base camp that I know of.


	41. Declaration of War

**The Muse lives! Wow. Apparently the Muse officially has no ability to tell time, as it took me three months to get you guys an update and I didn't even realize it until my beta PMed me with a "Hey, check your calendar and last update dates" friendly reminder. That said, I thank you all for your patience and for putting up with my busy schedule. I sincerely will try not to let such a long time pass without some sort of an update in the future. I truly am sorry I let that happen. Anyway folks, I really do hope you enjoy this short and to the point update (action chapters coming soon, promise! I'm not proud of this chapter. No comment from the peanut gallery…) and I will try to be more prompt in the future with my updates. I'm working with about one hour of free time a week here for writing and that is split with other projects at the moment that are non-fan fiction related. **

**Chapter Forty One - Declaration of War**

It doesn't take me long to find my way back to Fort Condor and scale the ratty rope to semi-dry land. Dripping wet and hoping against all hope that the map I swiped didn't get too wet, I round the corner of the upper entrance hall and almost trip over an infuriated Reeve who much to my displeasure, took it upon himself to wait up for me.

"What in the hell took you so long. I was worried you might have--"

I shove the map into his hand, careful not to upset the coffee cup in his other hand. God knows what kind of trouble that would cause and if his haggard look is any indication, he won't be sleeping tonight either. "This is where AVALANCHE is going and where Scarlet intends on being."

"You took this from Scarlet? Do you have a death wish?"

"I'm not going to even answer that. Take a look on the reverse side before you make any judgments and start criticizing my work. I did this miserable excuse for a stronghold a favor."

Reeve turns the glacier map over and his eyes widen in something caught between horror and surprise. "You did this?"

"Consider this my 'support' of the condors," I set Rekka against the wall of our makeshift room and wring out the sleeve of my blazer. One does not appreciate a dry place to sleep until they've been out in the rain most of the night.

"There must be ten thousand troops here." He pours over the list of units and soldiers I compiled in disbelief. "How in the hell can these people hold out against them?"

"Tanks don't move well in the mud. The rain did these folks a favor. All they have to do is steal in from the back forest, take what they need ammunition-wise while Scarlet and her core forces are away, and they've got themselves restocked and resupplied at Shinra's expense. Pending they're smarter than they look, I'd say it could be done in about half of a night."

"It's times like these that I'm glad you're on our side."

"Correction. I'm not on your side, remember? I'm rogue."

"Right." Somehow I can tell he is not convinced. What? I really do care about those damn condors when you think about it. Crazy birds make people do crazy things at times and I'd hate for Scarlet to actually get her way and win against these guys. What can I say, I favor the underdog in times like these.

Reeve spreads the map across the table and gives a low whistle. "It's hard to believe they would brave the elements up there. This is some glacier."

"Tell me about it. I'm not even sure they _can _get across that glacier in their condition. Any updates?"

"Cait's signal has been in an out all day, but from what I gathered, they're snowboarding down the side of the mountain and going on it by foot from there on out. As to what condition they're in, I can only assume it is not the best with everything that has happened and all. I'm just hoping the gears don't frost over while they're making their way to Northern Crater. I heard the temperatures get well below zero in certain places on this glacier."

"Yeah. It's a cold region." I stare at the laptop poking out from beneath the saturated map. Cold is an understatement. Modeoheim is downright brutal in the middle of winter. I hope Cloud and them can make it over the glacier in one piece. I feel a little guilty not being there to help. Having a map this detailed would be a godsend to them, as Scarlet has seemingly mapped out every little trail. Without this, her army is frozen in place and she'll be forced to find another way. I suppose that will have to do for now.

Reeve continues to study the map for a few minutes longer before pulling out a PHS and taking a step backwards. A familiar click shatters the subtle drip of water from the ceiling.

"Think you can code something for me really quick?" He turns the PHS over in his palm and pries the tiny chip out of its side, handing it to me. "I took a picture of the map and want to upload it to Cait Sith. It will help them at least."

I turn the tiny chip over and grab the laptop, loading the screens that I need up with a sigh. What else was I going to do tonight? Without wasting any time, I load the chip and begin the sequence of codes as a shout of warning echoes down the corridor.

Damn it. My fingers pause atop the keys as Reeve scowls and looks at me. "Stay here. I'll deal with it."

He should know me better by now. I close the laptop and make my way to my shadowy perch to watch the fireworks unfold.

There is a shout of surprise as Scarlet shoves one of the Condor residents to the side like a rabid wolf and snarls at Reeve. "How dare you steal from me. Mark my words, Tuesti! I will see you executed over this! Mark my words!"

"You have no proof it was me," Reeve answers matter-of-factly. "I've been here the whole night. Besides, what would I want with your toys. I have my own to play with."

"Don't you try to hide it. It had to be you," she snaps and glares at him. "Oh when Shinra finds out about this, you're a dead man. I'm going to give you a special execution. You're going to be a dead man over this."

Reeve, despite being harassed by one of Shinra's finest bitches, keeps his cool and brushes it off, no doubt annoyed by the spectacle. He knows that Scarlet is just looking for a way to pin him for this at the moment and so far, she's got nothing on him. That doesn't mean that she won't try in the future though. She can be fairly determined when she puts her mind to things. "Again, I'm telling you. I'm innocent. You probably left it in the care of Heidegger and he probably simply misplaced it."

"It was stolen and if you don't give it back to me right this instant, I'll call headquarters right now and have you arrested."

"Again, what are you going to tell them? That I might have stolen something of yours when I have no idea where in the Hell your base even is? Good luck with that."

"This means war."

"Looking forward to it. Now, if you've got nothing more to say to me, I suggest you get back to your base. Your comrade probably piddled all over the floor while you were away."

She turns and storms out of the fort with that look about her and I cannot help but notice that for the first time in a long time, Reeve actually seems proud of the accomplishment, despite the fact that he's royally screwed. It's going to be a long night. I can feel it.


	42. Out in the Cold

**I promised you action scenes and I hope this suffices for now in a nice long, ON TIME chapter. I didn't feel like spending all day at a silly glacier, even though I had a lot of fun replaying that part personally and yes, I skipped out on a whole scene, but I have good reason and didn't want to bore you all. The really good chapters are coming after this when some cameo characters who just don't get enough love make an important appearance on some interesting grounds and things really start moving along. Promise. The Muse really did try on this one this time folks. Enjoy. **

**Chapter Forty Two - Out in the Cold**

It was like staring into a perfectly shaped room lined with prisms. Waves of indigo light washed across the concaved walls. Vivid azure spilled up through and across crystalline floors rippled like fine glass no human could ever shape. Icicles stood like frosted sentinels protecting a pool of limpid water unfrozen within the protection of the prismatic wall's embrace. The soft echo of leather soled boots brushing across the floor's glassy surface reverberated through the frozen chamber of the glacial cavern and for a moment, there was nothing more breathtaking and ethereal in existence.

Grains of snow danced across the floor from an opening in the wall where the pinnacles of frozen malice rose high against the icy storm pounding the northern side of the glacier's mountain face. The afternoon light was fading quickly, only the odd mako glow filling the area in an assortment of pastels and vivid blues illuminating the cavern and ridge trails beyond.

It was beautiful. A sight so rare and deadly that it was absolutely amazing to behold and for once, I was actually glad that Reeve had taken the liberty of waking me up to see such a sight. I know for a fact that I would never actually get to see such a place in my lifetime and somewhat envy the group traipsing through it first hand.

I wrap the woolen blanket around my shoulders with a slight shiver at the damp morning air creeping through the room and step closer to the computer where Reeve is monitoring Cait Sith. Well, maybe I wouldn't miss the cold. It had to be well below freezing out there and none of them look like they are having a good time. They've managed to wrangle up some old weatherworn cloaks for some protection from the elements, but other than the worn fabric, they are hardly dressed for the occasion. I could have sworn I just saw Barret mouth some explicit words about Reeve's robot being all nice and cozy from the corner of the screen…

"According to this, they're almost out of the glacier," Reeve answers my question before I can even ask it. "Sure is cold out there though. About ten below zero if these readings are anywhere close."

"You do realize Barret wants to kill you right?"

"You missed it earlier. Mr. Strife threatened to hunt me down and kill me when I asked if Ms. Lockheart was cold after they ran into a fire and ice breathing dragon of all things. I've seen cleaner, less creative uses for the 'F' word in the Turks than what these guys promised me."

I could not resist a snicker as I imagine just what Cloud might have told my comrade at the time, but I could guess just how bad it probably got. He was lucky to still have a robot at this point.

Beyond the cavern's reaches, a span of brilliantly swirled, pastel lights dance across the sky against a backdrop of indigo where the clouds have parted well below the ledge Cait Sith follows them out onto. A brisk wind whistles through the ledges and swirls dry snow into the air for several seconds as Cloud takes the lead up a narrow, steep ledge towards the aura of the Northern Lights and suddenly freezes with a low whistle of his own at something only he can see.

Tifa hurries to his side and takes a step backwards with a soft gasp and one by one, the remainder of the group follows.

"_Well, I'll be a son of a bitch. Would you look at that." _Mr. Highwind attempts to light a cigarette, only succeeding in stirring a small glow at the end of it before it goes out and he curses it.

Reeve navigates Cait Sith up the narrow incline and peers over the rim of the crater. For a moment, neither one of us can speak.

It begins like a wild tempest, hostile mako green light oozing up from within the planet and leaping and springing upwards in praise to the eerily clear sky where the lights dip and weave up and down in response. Rocks buckle and curve around its mighty walls as the tornado of light spins around and around in the same location, never moving outwards or inwards, but simply existing without reason at the center of the crater. Geysers of light spurt from within its center, not too unlike an awesome volcano without restraints.

"Reeve, what in the hell causes something like that?" I want to look away from the awesome spectacle we are witnessing. I don't want to see it anymore. But something prevents me from doing so and like a predator, it has drawn me in and trapped me in its grasp.

"I have no idea, honestly. But this is Northern Crater, where Jenova landed so long ago, according to Gast's notes. Holy only knows what's at the center of it all though."

"I don't want to know." And I don't. This whole goddamn thing is wrong, and, for the first time in a long time, it scares me to even imagine what could lie at the center of such a tempest. I want to get my chocobo and go back to Marlene and Elmyra. Screw Shinra. Screw Sephiroth. Screw whatever the hell is going on here.

"Me neither. Whatever did this could not have been pleasant." Reeve gives me a sympathetic look and directs Cait Sith to follow Cloud and the others down a steep, ice-lined trail where several bodies lie in haphazard formation. It doesn't take much to know that they are Sephiroth's failed clones, dying in the cold as they try to return to their master.

A sparkling, brilliant fog encases the lower portion of the crater, punctuated only by the rising pinnacles of rocks and one cannot see for more than a few feet in front of them once their feet strike the glowing stones. Cloud mutters something that sounds a little like, "Stay close," and takes point. The wind intensifies and dies down, pulsing with the rhythm of the planet.

The image on the screen blinks ominously and for a moment, Reeve and I are rewarded with several uncomfortable seconds of pure static before the image returns and a glowing light in the sky catches out attention. Damn it. Looks like Scarlet found her way to the crater after all.

"That witch just doesn't know when to quit. Hope they crash on the slopes somewhere." He looks at me matter-of-factly. "And you didn't hear me just say that."

"I've already forgotten it." He and I both know that is a lie, but at this point, watching the Highwind crash on the rocky slopes would actually be comforting. I can only imagine what they are saying about this place. Probably trying to figure out what to do with the energy they see potential in.

It takes half of an hour before the land begins to rise upwards in a spiraling point and Cloud leads us up the incline. This place defies the laws of nature.

There is the sound of a sword being drawn and a shadow emerges through the light up ahead.

"_This is the end, for all of you." _

"_Sephiroth!" _

A scream reaches through the wind as two of the clones fall from the ledge to their death at the sword of Sephiroth. He stands like a hideous demon, his silver hair whipped by the wind and body sculpted by the dying landscape around him. With a sinister smirk, he turns his head ever so slightly to look at Cloud and vanishes in a plume of smoke.

Cloud pauses for a few seconds and simply stares at the place where the clones fell. _"What do you mean by 'Our'? Master?" _

Huh? I look at Reeve and back to the screen, having heard nothing. Neither Tifa, nor Barret, or even Cid or Red XIII seem to have heard anything either. Something is wrong with Cloud. He's talking to himself again.

There is a brilliant flash of light and the screen goes all erratic and try as Reeve might, he cannot get it back in to save his life.

"What do you suppose is happening out there?" he asks.

"Sephiroth. Something is really wrong, Reeve. I can feel it. Something bad is going to happen tonight. Something is wrong with Cloud."

It's like a cold chill to the air that cannot be warmed by even a blanket wrapped around one's shoulders. The sort of cold that seeps into one's bones and refuses to leave. And I don't like it one bit.

The camera comes back online some fifteen minutes later revealing a rather flustered looking Cloud holding the black materia in his hands and muttering something about Jenova cells and Sephiroth lying just beyond the ridge. I'm getting a bad feeling about this whole thing.

And thankfully, I am not the only one.

"_We'd better not take the Black Materia any further. Give it to someone else, just in case something happens." _

Thank God for Tifa, the voice of reason in this group as she places a hand on Cloud's shoulder and gestures to the remaining group for him to simply pick someone else to shoulder the burden.

Immediately, chaos erupts within the group.

"_Keep that shit away from me," _Cid says and tries once again to light a cigarette with no success.

"_Don't look at me. I ain't into that voodoo stuff, Spike." _

"_Fine, if no one else will hold it, I suppose I could. Just, be quick, please. I'm not comfortable with this." _Red XIII offers as he looks at the remainder of the group in a sympathetic manner and accepts the Black Materia from Cloud.

"_Don't give it to anyone, okay. I'm counting on you."_

Red XIII nods and watches Cloud, Tifa, Cid and Barret begin the long trek up the ridge, leaving Cait Sith alone with him. There was no way Reeve was going to be able to get him to navigate those ridges with the signal the way it was. Not yet anyway.

"I can't say I'm not the slightest bit offended," Reeve says and puts the robot into standby mode. "They didn't even offer it to me."

"You really expected him to?" I can't help but remind him of where he stands in AVALANCHE's pecking order. "You are Shinra material."

"Yeah, but still. It would have been nice if he asked at least."

I point to the screen where Red XIII seems to be having a conversation with Tifa of all people. When did she get back so quickly? And more importantly, why?

We cannot hear what is being said, but in a hurry, Red XIII looks at us and takes off running in the direction that Cloud and them have gone, Tifa in tow. The screen blanks out and flashes back again, leaving us alone on the ridge.

"Damn it." Reeve grabs the laptop and commands Cait Sith to follow the trail in pursuit. "This isn't going well. Why does everyone always leave us behind?"

"Because they don't like you," I remind him, watching Cait Sith scale the rocks and eventually emerge in a small, odd looking forest-like area of opaque blue stone and raw materia where my least favorite people on the planet are gathered, discussing what to do with the materia around them and trying to figure out just what Cloud and the others are doing there.

"_This is where the Reunion is going to take place," _Cloud explains in a darker tone of voice, which makes Hojo's beady eyes light up with glee. Oh to have a piece of rock fall on him and Scarlet right about now. Reeve seems to sense my feelings as we watch Red XIII trot over towards Cloud, looking about as relieved as a creature of his stature can possibly look given the circumstances.

"_Good to see you, Red XIII. Did you bring the Black Materia?" _

"_Yes," _he says in a guarded tone, as though sensing something is wrong with Cloud. _"I still have it." _

"_Good. Now give it back to me please." _

He reluctantly looks between Cloud, Rufus, and the others with this sort of puzzlement about him, as though deciding on whether or not that is the wisest choice to make. A part of me wills him to turn and just take off running. No one would catch him and maybe, just maybe, things would feel a little less dangerous.

"Don't give it to him," I warn, surprising Reeve with my tone. "Run you son of a bitch."

"Cissnei?"

"That is not Cloud," I tell him. "Cloud would not ask for it back like this guy is. Something else is going on here. Why can't they seem to see it?"

Red XIII, deciding that Cloud is the safer bet, pads over to him and reluctantly gives the Black Materia to the psychotic man pretending to be a former SOLDIER. Forget Shinra at this point, I want that piece of stone to fall on Cloud.

What is wrong with me? Jessie would never actually wish harm upon him. She wouldn't want to hurt anyone. And yet, a part of me feels that is the only option left right now. Destroy Cloud, prevent a disaster. Let him live, and we all die. Oh how I have fallen to be thinking such thoughts.

Cloud accepts the Black Materia with a hint of a sly smirk and turns towards Rufus and the others. _"Thanks for everything. I'm so sorry for everything. I'm terribly sorry, especially to you, Tifa. Maybe someday you'll meet the real Cloud. Maybe." _

"_This is perfect! My experiment was a success! What number were you?" _Hojo claps his hands together in menacing glee as Tifa all but unravels at Cloud's cold tone of voice towards her.

His eyes narrow and he looks at Hojo. _"I don't have a number. I was a 'failure' remember?"_

"_So, a miserable failure made it this far. How interesting. The theory of the Reunion was proven correct then."_

Cloud shakes his head at Hojo's glee and leaps into the air to an tangle of coral and materia above the wall of opaque stone. Hojo continues to ramble about Jenova and its cells, but we don't care about that at this point. All eyes are on Cloud as he steps towards a piece of the stone where the faint image of a body resides. He reaches towards it and almost immediately, the image on the screen begins to shake and Scarlet looks, dare I mention it, almost frightened as Tifa and the others gather and whisper amongst themselves.

"_He's going to summon Meteor!" _

"_We need to evacuate, now. Bring them. People are going to want heads for this." _Rufus says as Scarlet's mini-brigade surrounds Tifa and the others. Someone grabs Cait Sith and heads for the airship as the entire rock formation bucks beneath their feet and a flash of light erupts from where Cloud and the body of Sephiroth were.

"That can't be good," Reeve mutters, the light flooding the screen with the shouts to hurry the hell up and the roar of stone being displaced forcefully.

A scream pierces the air, unlike anything heard by human ears.

"Reeve--" Grains of damp earth land upon the keys of the laptop and across the desk. I slam the computer shut with a grimace. "We need to get out of here, now!"

I grab his arm and half drag him towards the hallway as bits of the ceiling begin raining down and the floor begins to tremble. Somewhere the cry of a condor pierces the air.

There are screams and shouts from the men and an explosion, like thunder, rattles the entire establishment. Everything shakes and the earth bucks beneath our feet. Dust rains down from the ceiling and I grab Rekka and hurry to the doorway with Reeve, terrified that the entire roof is going to cave in on us. The lamp tips over and everything falls into an unsettling darkness leaving the two of us clinging to one another and whispering the closest thing to prayers one can get.


	43. Even Ground

**Well, that only took a month and a half to write. You see, it was just so nice outside and I just had to be out there fixing up my garden for the spring. Yeah, it's that time of year again folks. But, gardening **_**is **_**inspirational, so I did think about the fics a little bit while trying to figure out if those weird plants growing in box number 3 were intelligent weeds or spring onions. The verdict is still out on that by the way. I apologize for this ungodly long pseudo-filler-ish chapter ahead of time. (Some really cool stuff does happens in this one. Really, it does, which is why I'm hesitant to call it a filler.) The next chapter is already written and being proofed (my beta is currently hiding somewhere with the last of my gourmet jelly beans as her prisoner, no doubt pleased with herself at being privileged enough to partake of the Muse's secret stash of Easter candy as she sees fit) as I type this, and I promise it's gonna be interesting as it was one of my all time favorites and the most challenging to write thus far. I foresee a certain underappreciated branch of fans being exceptionally pleased when I release the next chapter. ;) On another minor note: The timeline here says I have SEVEN days until the execution in Junon, so by darned, I'm gonna use it and assume that Meteor does not immediately appear in the sky, but takes a few hours to do so. My fic, my Muse's creative liberties. (Dis will just have to wait for his hot catfight.) Okay. Rant over. ::Hides from cranky reviewer in secret Muse bunker with Kiba:: Enjoy folks!**

**Chapter Forty Three - Even Ground**

For several agonizing minutes, Reeve and I stumble through the darkness in search of a packet of matches and one of the overturned lanterns.

"Are you okay, Cissnei?"

I'm hiding under a table, or at least I hope it is a table, wondering if the entire inner workings of Condor are going to come caving in on my head the moment I move. How do you _think _I'm doing?

"I'm okay." It is a lie of course. I'd give anything to not be trapped in the dark underground in close corridors at the moment. "How about you?"

His elbow jabs me in the ribs, earning a growl of annoyance as I resist the urge to reach out in retaliation.

"Sorry. Sorry. Its too damn dark in here."

"Tell me about it. The lantern should be over here somewhere."

"Define 'here.'"

"Never mind."

"I thought you Turks had night vision."

"_Really_, Reeve? Really?" I try my damnedest to let the sarcasm flood my voice as I begin sweeping my hands across the floor, clipping Rekka along the way. Damn that smarts. My hiss of pain does not go unnoticed.

"What happened?"

"Found my shuriken. Nothing important. Just a scratch."

"Oh."

I crawl past Rekka, using it as more of a go to point than anything. Let's see. The table with the laptop was north of here, whoever the hell that is. I'll try there first.

A beacon of light creeps along the corridor, casting a soft blanket of light over the room. It's barely enough to see three inches in front of us, but it is a small godsend. I locate the lantern not two feet from where it fell and seize the packet of matches still on the dust covered table. Seconds later, warm light fills the room and restores it to its former glory, or as close as one can get.

"Are you two okay?" says the elder man carrying the lantern. Reeve gives him a sheepish look and crawls out from under the table in a last ditch attempt to regain his dignity, because, as everyone knows, men of his stature did not _hide _under tables when the earth shook.

"Er, yeah. We're fine. Just a little shaken up. So who attacked?"

The elder scratches his chin and shakes his head as if we said something that makes no sense whatsoever. "No one. That wasn't Shinra."

"Not Shinra?" he says, a bit puzzled.

The elder nodded. "It came from under us instead of over us for once. Just an earthquake."

I dust some of the dirt off of the laptop and look towards him. "How many earthquakes do you guys get a year?"

"This is the first in years," he answers. "I doubt anything was severely damaged, but I need to go check on the others. So if you two are--"

"We're fine," Reeve answers for me. "Go tend to them. We'll be along to help in a little bit."

He retreats back into the corridor and leaves us with a sense of uncomfortable silence between us. Earthquakes are not common in this region. I know that for a fact.

Reeve retrieves the computer and brushes the dust from it, managing to load up several screens a few minutes later. A low whistle escapes him as he surveys the data.

"How good do you know your geography?"

"That depends on what you want to know," I reply and look over his shoulder, staring for a moment at the red flags across the entire region that appear to have suffered low scale earthquakes. Midgar, Junon, Condor. I watch as he enhances the image to a more global scale, most of the other major cities also sporting red flags, the most severe being Modeoheim at the moment. It appears to have rippled outward from the crater.

"Looks like we weren't the only ones who felt it," he says. "This is a global mess."

"Whatever happened up at the crater was enough to cause the entire Lifestream to go nuts. Those cities affected are ones that have Mako reactors in them."

It was a reach, but at the moment, it was the only thing that made any sense. Despite Condor's anti-Shinra stance on things, we were still situated over a defunct Mako reactor with veins deep enough to tap the Lifestream. I couldn't help but wonder if Kalm shook as well. There was nothing on the radar that would indicate that it did, but being so close to Midgar, I couldn't brush the thoughts of Elmyra and Marlene from the back of my mind. I hope they are okay.

"Keen sense of the obvious," Reeve says and continues typing. "Damn. I can't get a visual of anything on the ground though. All of the communications seem to be down, with only satellite functioning at the moment."

"That's not exactly a bad thing. Don't most of the Shinra ground forces rely on radio waves still?"

"Unfortunately. You would think that a multi trillion gil company would invest in some decent technology to make things more efficient. Hell, didn't you guys just finally upgrade your PHS system a few years ago?" Reeve looks at me with a scowl. "I can't even get a new light bulb for my office for Gaia's sake and I'm _supposedly _head of Urban Development!"

"You of all people should know that if you want something done in Shinra, you have to do it yourself," I retrieve my shuriken in a casual manner. "It was a real pain in the ass to use Morse code all of the time anyway. When Tseng finally realized that most of the coded messages involved the hilariously untrue antics of him and Scarlet after hours, yeah, things changed real quick. In a way though, this is actually a blessing."

"Oh no. Just what are you up to now?"

"Planning on pissing off the alpha bitch, as usual." I don't even look at him as I wipe the dust from my weapon and swing it over my shoulder. "What? Someone's gotta do it. Might as well be me."

"Let me ask you a personal question if I may? Do you have a death wish? The reason I ask is because that woman in particular is documented as having no soul and not even a fraction of humanity, which you of all people should already know by now. You've seen what she does to the criminals that end up in her hands. She's the definition of a monster."

Believe me, I knew exactly what Reeve was talking about. When Scarlet dug her talons into her prey, there was no escape, and I don't think even we Turks have ever tortured someone to the point where they literally beg to die. We've come close, but those occasions were rare and usually reserved for the most heinous and stubborn of criminals. Scarlet was just plain _cruel _in her actions.

"Yeah, well she's got a few old friends of mine now, which makes this personal."

"You're actually going to do this, aren't you? No matter what I say, you're just going to ignore me."

"I'd be insane not to take full advantage of an opportunity like this one. Shinra's flying blind at the moment and the best she'll have access to is whatever she has with her and within an immediate vicinity at the moment. It's like leaving the door hanging wide open to thieves. Unless, of course, you would rather go instead? It's not like she swore the hellfire of Ifrit against you or anything."

"Only the hellfire of Ifrit? She's gone soft on me in her old age." Reeve crosses his arms across his chest with a disgruntled grumble not too unlike an old nanny goat and nudges a small piece of plastic closer to the edge of the table. "It's such a shame really. I'm just a boring old engineer. Imagine my horror when, while returning to Midgar, I was ambushed by a band of rogue thieves who just happened to grab my security ID of all things. What on earth choice would I have but to go along with their plans?"

"You're not serious."

He allows a brief, albeit nervous smirk. "And I wasn't able to call for help or anything. How horrible. Though, I would hope that whoever took my ID would be at least sensible enough to somehow keep me informed as to what she was doing with it. It's rather rude to leave me out of the fun."

I retrieve the ID card from the desk and glance over it for a brief moment. "Of course."

"Good, because I won't be able to be of much help until the lines come back up. At least Cait Sith will give 'me' a legitimate reason to be in Junon if anyone questions it, assuming they find out and catch me in Midgar of course."

I can't help but stare at him in disbelief. "You didn't program him on satellite frequencies?"

"Shinra doesn't fund my pet projects like they do hers. I could only put some aspects on one frequency or the other. Right now, I'm lucky if the autopilot works. Of course, none of that is going to matter is that insane madwoman gets her way. She'll execute them the moment she can broadcast their deaths live on the Shinra International News Network, which will have made everything we've done so far a complete waste of time."

"We're just going to have to make sure she doesn't get the chance then. Can I ask a personal favor, Reeve?"

He nods, hesitantly. It was never a good thing when a Turk asked a non-Turk for a favor, especially Reeve. But he is the closest thing to a comrade I can trust at the moment and one of the few with a sympathetic side towards civilians.

"On the off chance that things go sour and don't work out well, for myself or AVALANCHE, could you, go to Kalm and tell them what happened? Make sure they get to a safe place, away from Scarlet's claws?"

He nods, but refuses to meet my eyes. There's no doubt in my mind that he will do as I have requested, but I found myself hoping against all hope that he wouldn't have to. For the first time in a long time, I want to make good on my promise to return, alive.

Much to my surprise, the haggard excuse for a chocobo raises its head and warks in greeting, no doubt in that pea-sized brain of his associating me with something familiar in an otherwise hostile environment. True be told, I'm somewhat shocked that he didn't tear out of there when the first earthquake struck. His tether isn't even tied to anything. The ground's been trembling with several aftershocks ever since and chocobos aren't known for their bravery or intelligence. He must be a hell of a lot dumber than he looks.

I grab the tether and watch as he staggers into a standing position on spindly legs, pressing his beak closer to interrogate me for greens.

Reeve smiles at the display and I shove the chocobo's beak to the side as it playfully nips at my blazer. "That's got to be the scruffiest bird I've ever seen."

"What he lacks in looks and brains he makes up for in speed," I defend. "Besides, he's _my _scruffy bird."

"He suits you though."

And just what was that supposed to mean? I shoot him a glare and swing onto the bird's back, adjusting the shuriken so that it doesn't jab the unfortunate creature. He takes a few awkward steps with a wark of confusion, but settles the moment I tug the makeshift reins.

"I suppose you could always short race him if you got desperate. Though, I doubt he would stand up to a Mountain or River, let alone that devilish black one that thinks he owns the track, but it might be fun to watch."

"At this point, I'm happy if he gets me to Junon. The sooner, the better." I stroke the bird's neck and watch the first rays of light streaming over the horizon. It's way too damn early for this. "I'm not sure how big my window of time is."

"I'll do what I can to stall things," he says. "Just don't get killed."

I spur the chocobo down the hill and towards the open plain with a sigh, the bird easily moving into a faster gait and seemingly enjoying the cool morning air. At least it's not raining.

For the better part of the morning, we travel in near silence, the bird amusing himself by warking and bobbing his head every couple of miles in tune to his gait. Dare I even think he's probably bored out of his mind by now. All there is to look at out here are rocks, hills, more rocks, more hills, and the sun. There's not a cloud in the sky, and yet, something feels off. As though the air is heavier than it was last night, far heavier. I hope I can reach Junon in time.

_And then what? _my inner watchdog inquires, partially reprimanding, and partially curious. That was the problem. I didn't know exactly what I was going to do. I know where Scarlet keeps her prisoners, and just where she will execute them. But, as for how I'm going to actually infiltrate the damn 'fortress,' I haven't a damn clue. And what then? I highly doubt the surviving members of AVALANCHE will take kindly to a Turk of all things in their midst. Reeve's right. I didn't exactly think this through completely.

The chocobo raises his head with a nervous wark and slows his pace, sidestepping and nearly sending me to the ground. I tug the reins forcefully to catch his attention with a soft curse. It's not his fault I got distracted by my inner thoughts.

"What do you see?" I whisper, scanning the hills and picking out the shape of trees in the distance. Something doesn't feel right. Kalm fangs? No. I press my heels to the bird's sides, feeling the eyes on me. There's something there.

I slacken the reins and allow the bird free range as he picks his way over the exposed tree roots and through the undergrowth of the forest a good half of an hour later, snitching a few wild greens as he goes. There's something out there.

The branches rattle above me, the chocobo abandoning his greens with a nervous wark, a light tremble coursing through his muscles. I grab the reins with one hand to prevent him from bolting and glance at the trees casting shadows across the mossy earth. He tosses his head and scuttles backwards a stride, ruffling his wings.

A branch snaps to my right, making my pulse quicken.

The cold, metallic barrel of a gun presses against the back of my skull before I can reach for Rekka.


	44. Moral Compass

**Am I the only one out there who doesn't exactly buy the whole "Vincent is terribly 100 percent happy to be in AVALANCHE" at this point in the story and is actually quite capable of being a complete and totally awesome flip flopping enigma sort of not-so-nice guy? I mean, seriously, my beta and I argued about this possibility while fixing a tractor most of Thursday afternoon. (If anyone is curious, yes, a 98 lb female Muse CAN throw a 12 lb wrench from ground level into the second story hayloft of a barn and land it successfully in another dimension upon the discovery that the part she needed to replace was once again the wrong model number no thanks to a certain farm supply store that writes one thing on the box and puts a completely different part in the box. Really, I looked everywhere for said MIA wrench. It's fallen into another dimension. So if anyone knows how to get missing farm tools back from other dimensions, do tell. I kinda sorta want it back, or at least to find out if I beat the farm record for distance of a farm instrument thrown. The dairy boys owe me a drink if I did.) Wrenches aside, I really am sort of proud of this chapter and enjoyed putting it together, so hopefully, fans of certain underappreciated characters can FINALLY get to squeal with joy. I'm looking at you The Dani-Chan Replika 2.06. Enjoy folks. : ) **

**Chapter Forty Four - Moral Compass**

I should've known that escaping the Lifestream would come back to bite me in the ass eventually. I just didn't think it would catch up with me this quick. And this time, it's going to make damn sure that I don't slip out of its grasp again.

The cold metal barrel presses harder against the back of my skull. Shit. This is not good. The soft creak of leather as my about-to-be murder curls his finger around the trigger with a sense of cold malice Tseng can't even replicate reaches my ears, sending an unintentional shiver down my spine. There is no hesitation in the motion, no second guessing.

It is the hand of a murder. He intends to kill me.

The chocobo emits a somber, hesitant attempt at a wark, every muscle freezing in absolute terror and I don't think he would move even if I could make my legs move to tell him to. Whatever is standing directly behind us is not human. I can almost feel it in the air. Just like…Sephiroth.

Gunpowder, rust, and leather. The scents register to my senses in those fragile few seconds. My assailant is a capable marksman who's been doing this for a long time. Yes. A very long time. Not even Tseng holds a pistol with this kind of malice.

I draw a shaky breath, not realizing I had even been holding it and curl my fingers tighter around the reins, the chocobo quivering in fright. He'll probably drop dead from a heart attack the moment that trigger is pulled. They're not terribly good under stress.

_If you're going to shoot, then shoot, _I want to say, but all that I can manage is a subtle trembling motion that spreads through my nerves before I can even try to prevent it. They say you don't hear the shot that kills you. I would like to know just how they know this exactly…

Everything has gone quiet. No birds chirping. No wind rustling through the trees. Just quiet. I hear the rustle of fabric that belongs to some form of cloak as he shifts his weight for a more comfortable stance. Hell, I can't even hear him breathing.

It happens like the aftershocks at Fort Condor, swift and violent. I grab the reins and draw them back with a violent jerk at the same time the bird collapses beneath me in a sudden rustle of feathers and warking terror, no doubt overwhelmed by the thought of a predator so close. Survival skill or not, I'll take it. Everything rushes into focus in that split second that the gun barrel seemingly draws away from my head and I bring my throwing arm up in a desperate grapple for the weapon.

A steel vice wraps around my throat in an instant, closing over my windpipe and preventing the gasp of surprise from escaping my throat as he rips me from the back of the trembling chocobo in one fluid motion and suspends me in the air to face him. Shit. Not good.

His eyes are red, like blood. Worse than blood. These have no _soul_. They are eyes that have seen Hell personally. They are a killer's eyes. And they have already condemned me in less than a few seconds.

The metal claw tightens around my throat. I dig my fingers against its smooth, golden surface in a frantic effort to convince him to stop, only succeeding in making him tighten his grip. I can't draw Rekka from this angle. A sharp stabbing pain sweeps through my throat and for a frantic moment, I begin to wonder if he's crushed my trachea completely. I can taste blood at the back of my throat. At this rate, I'll be unconscious in less than thirty seconds. And after that--a violent shudder racks my body in a vicious, desperate plea to draw a breath--death.

I've been helpless before, but never like this. How in the hell is one man this strong?

He remains silent, merely watching me with his eyes unblinking, yet focused, his long raven hair falling around his shoulders as he shrugs his blood red cloak over his right shoulder. He no longer has his gun trained on me. He knows he doesn't need it. A chill washes through my body as the thundering of my heart pounds in my ears, replacing the quiet.

_His chest, _the inner watchdog practically screams. _Go for his chest!_

Fighting back the scalding pain crushing my lungs and sending less than subtle warnings that if I don't get free within the next ten seconds, I'm never going to, I swing my legs out and drive the heels of my shoes against his chest in a desperately violent attempt to persuade him to let me go.

Instead of buckling to the ground and releasing me as anticipated, he merely raises an eyebrow in some sort of sick, twisted amusement. Gods, it's like kicking marble. Not even Sephiroth is capable of simply brushing something like that off without so much as a flinch. I should have at least made him stagger.

Who in the hell is this guy?

A sickening dark haze sweeps into my field of vision, obscuring his face. Scalding tears burn as they creep to the edge, not quite taking that final plunge yet. Death is a lot crueler than I remember him being this time around. I close my eyes, not wanting to even look at him.

My trembling, numb fingers clumsily fumble with the butt of the pistol in a fleeting effort to draw it from its holster, and he makes no attempt to stop me. I only get it a fraction of an inch from the holster before my hand falls limp and refuses to obey even the simplest command.

There is a soft grunt from his lips and the cold air rushes up around me. Rekka sends a brutal shock through my spine as the blunt steel serves as a clumsy buffer against the base of the tree trunk my body lands against. The soft dirt brushes against my cheek.

"Get up." The voice is dark, cutting through the thunderous roaring in my ears with the lethal precision of a knife.

I'm not sure if I can. The concept of even _trying _to breathe seems foreign. None of the muscles that should have recovered by now with my harsh collision with the ground have. They should have at least kicked in by now and registered that something as simple as taking a breath should be happening. I watch his willowy form step closer through the thick haze, those hostile eyes never blinking, never leaving me. All I can do is lie here, dying in silence, unable to even scream. I'm about to be murdered.

That scares me worse than anything.

He kneels down and grasps my shoulder with the same metal claw that had been around my throat seconds ago. I close my eyes, not wanting him to know that I'm scared. To not give my murderer the satisfaction of knowing that he is able to strike utter terror into me. I'm a Turk damn it. I'm not _supposed _to be scared of anything.

Death is the exception to the rule.

Warmth washes over me and deep into the muscles, significantly reducing the pain behind my ribs and the thick pressure against my throat. It feels like a heavy weight is being removed from my body allows me to draw a series of sharp, raspy breaths that send an unsteady quiver through my body. The pressure on my shoulder remains, preventing me from gaining any leverage against him. Not that I think I could in this state. I'm so tired, as though that warmth is stealing what little strength I have left, which isn't a whole hell of a lot.

I open my eyes, the world a lot sharper than it was seconds ago and stare at the glowing green orb in his hand. Restore. What murderer heals his victims after he tries to kill them?

"I said, get up."

It is a command, not a suggestion, and unless I want him to put a bullet in my brain, I don't really have much of a choice but to comply with his wishes. I'm of little use to anyone if I'm dead, which this man is more than capable of doing. Gathering what little strength I do have, I manage to push myself into a somewhat sitting position and immediately wish I hadn't. The world shifts, sending a dull, throbbing pain through my skull. He may have healed me, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to be hurting for a while.

Without showing any emotion, he hauls me the remainder of the way to my unsteady feet, continuing to grasp my throwing arm so I can't employ my weapon against him. He keeps looking at me, watching me, as though waiting for some sort of reaction. It reminds me of Veld, and I hate it. For as much as that man was heralded as a capable leader, he always looked at us like we were some sort of prized pedigree watchdogs, never as an actual person. At least Tseng possesses some form of soul, however hidden it is.

After what feels likes like an hour, he finally speaks. "Shinra's Department of Administrative Research."

It is not a question, more of a threat. If I don't answer favorably, there is a good chance he's going to go for that gun and let my body here for the wolves to pick at.

"Former," I manage, wishing I had some semblance of confidence to match the truth behind that statement. "I don't work for them anymore."

At this, he raises an eyebrow and I can tell he doesn't believe me. No one just 'quits' being a Turk. We know too much to be allowed to live.

"You're running."

Is it really that obvious? I manage a curt nod and flinch at the discomfort it causes. So I'm running, is that so wrong of me? Up until now, I was doing quite well in my opinion. In 20/20 hindsight though, I can tell I am going to regret ever admitting to that.

"Junon is a poor choice." The pressure on my arm lessens ever so slightly and he's looking down at me again, this time at my eyes. I resist the urge to step backwards out of instinct, feeling strangely exposed. He's not looking at me, but through me. I wish he would stop.

"I have business there," is all I say in response.

For a fleeting second, his lip curls into a hint of a smirk, but it is gone before it can fully materialize at the rustle of the brush. I tense at the shadow and wish that I could draw my shuriken. Whoever is coming for this segment of the forest is none-too-graceful.

"Hey, Vince, I found a shortcut through the--" she stops, her brown eyes widening in surprise as the breeze caused by her sudden appearance toys with her short, dark brown hair. She's Wutainese, a ninja, I can safely assume from her nontraditional choice of garb. Without waiting for confirmation from the man currently holding me hostage, she reaches behind her and draws a large, silver shuriken.

Despite the threat of being shot, I make a reach for my own weapon with my free hand. I'll be damned if I get taken down by a shuriken of all things. It happened only once before, back when I was still a clumsy rookie learning how to catch it, and I've no desire to experience it again.

The motion does not go unnoticed to 'Vince' as I assume him to be called and he looks over his shoulder with a look not too unlike boredom. "Yuffie, stand down."

"But that's a--"

"She is harmless."

With a huff of displeasure, she obeys, her eyes narrowed and no doubt trying to figure out just how someone like me can be 'harmless.' It really doesn't make any sense, but obedience seems to be a common trend around this guy.

Vince turns his gaze upon me again and I immediately cease the attempt to draw my own shuriken. "You said you were heading to Junon."

"Yes."

"Good. That will make this simpler." He releases me and I rub the spot where the claw touched. It's going to bruise like mad. "We also have business in Junon."

Absolutely fantastic. I avert my eyes, mentally cursing the fact that I even wanted to do this in the first place. I should've listened to Reeve and just stayed in Condor.

"You will address me as Vincent," he says and rests a hand upon the butt of his pistol in warning. It is not a yes or no answer. If I even think about trying to slip out of his sight, he will kill me. I've single-handedly become a captive. "I trust there will be no problems between you and Yuffie."

"None," I assure him, not at all enthused about the idea of traveling with them without even getting a say in this. I have got to find a way out of here before we get to Junon. But how?

Yuffie gives me a dark look of warning that makes me raise a tired eyebrow. I haven't even done anything and I'm receiving hostile looks already. She's no happier than I am about this arrangement.

Vincent strides by without even looking at us. "Get your chocobo. Let's go."

I walk over to the fallen, trembling mess of feathers and gently rub the feathers behind his head, half afraid that the poor beast might have died sometime during the ordeal. He emits a soft, pathetic wark in response and lifts his head from the ground. I grab the reins and force him to his unsteady legs, choosing to lead him out of the forest. Much as I feel like riding right now, somehow I doubt Vincent would stand for it and right now, he is the top dog.


	45. The Paths We Walk

**The Muse has found the wrench! Turns out it struck one of the support beams, banked a left, hit the lower slope of the wall, struck the floor, skidded about four feet, fell through a crack in the boards, and somehow landed in the main barn's milking goats' water bucket where I never would have looked had it not been for the fact that a group of thunderstorms came through and I was herding goats and a very ornery pony in from the lower grazing field. (Usually they get sent to the milking barn, but I needed them away from electrical equipment because of lightning.) What? You were expecting cows? :P Needless to say, I grabbed the bucket and promptly tipped it over to empty out the old water, dumping said wrench in question promptly upon my foot. That about concludes this month's episode of CSI, Muse Edition. Now that you know where I've been for the past two weeks, (be sure to factor in the replacement of the hydraulic hose to the tractor too and the epic quest for a peach tree--think Lord of the Rings with pitted fruit and lots of Gollum-like stock boys obsessed with tree tethers) hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. It's not my favorite because I think it moves too slow. The plot will start moving here shortly, promise, and yes, Yuffie is going to get a bigger part in the coming chapters. **

**Chapter Forty Five - The Paths We Walk**

"What is your name?"

The question comes out of nowhere, catching me off guard. After several hours of stiff silence and the constant plodding of my unenthusiastic chocobo at my side, that is probably the last thing I would have ever expected to hear from the man currently walking a little to my left, but within easy range of stepping behind me, gun drawn, if I place one foot wrong.

"Cissnei."

I'm not sure just why I decide to tell him without a fight. I guess it could be attributed to the fact that I really don't want to die out here, at least not in the manner this man is capable of killing me with. Unless you were someone 'important' in the Turks who could be used to obtain the type of information that could be detrimental to the company and its current leadership like Tseng, or even Reno at this point, telling your captor your name was perfectly acceptable behavior.

I can't help but notice the glare I receive from Yuffie at what seems to be over the very idea of Vincent choosing to actually talk to me. If only she knew that this man's motives for me are likely more serious and far darker than she can imagine. The moment we hit Junon, I get to become their scapegoat for whatever 'business' they seem to have there. And that doesn't bode well for me at all, especially since Scarlet has a warrant for my execution within easy reach.

Vincent is far scarier than Scarlet could ever be.

He nods and sets his eyes on the endless stretch of field in front of us. "You're young."

"I'm older than I look." When you're a Turk, age means little more than adding another year to that final date on your tombstone. Most of us in this field never make it past the first three years on the job before 'retirement.'

I'm well into my sixteenth.

"You're still a child."

I'm not sure whether I should be offended or not by the remark. Has he even _seen _the young woman traveling with him? She's definitely a few _years _younger than me.

"I grew up a long time ago, Sir." I clutch the chocobo's reins tighter and glance towards the clouds in the sky. They seem a little darker, more foreboding even. And almost tinted with red. I must be losing it.

Vincent pauses, something different in those soulless eyes this time. For the longest time, he says nothing, merely watches me out of the corner of those eyes. I'm not sure just what he's looking at, nor do I really want to. He's entitled to his own actions and so long as those actions don't involve threatening to kill me, I'll tolerate it, no matter how uncomfortable it makes me.

"We'll stop for the day over by those hills. It should be evening when we arrive."

I nod in agreement, which earns a disagreeing muttering that sounds a little like petty jealousy and something else I'd rather not repeat if I can help it from our resident ninja.

True to his word, the sun begins sinking behind the horizon about a mile and a half away from the hills he has chosen for an evening camp. And while walking across the prairie has done little for Vincent, the chocobo, and myself, Yuffie on the other hand has done little but complain for the past half of an hour.

"Unless you wish to be attacked by the local wildlife, making camp away from the open fields is an essential to survival."

"But, Vince, there were plenty of other hills closer. It's getting dark."

Vincent merely sighs, or at least I think it might be a sigh, his first real act of humanity in a long time. "Fifteen minutes."

"We'd be there by now if we used the stupid bird," she grumbles like an indignant child.

I think she's offending my bird by calling him stupid. The poor beast looks kind of sad. I reach up and scratch his neck, kind of wanting to tell him that it's okay, he's dumb, not stupid. There is a huge difference.

"It is not our bird to use," Vincent says. "Therefore, we walk."

If I wasn't receiving the death glare before, I sure am now. Vincent steps between us with his eyes set straight ahead to the approaching hills, ending the discussion before it can become one.

Fifteen minutes later finds us at a small canyon-like area of rising stone and uneven grassy knolls offering a tactical place to rest for the evening away from any skyward eyes that may be buzzing around this time of night. A tiny stream trickles through the area, casting a small layer of fog across the ground and dropping the temperature several degrees.

The chocobo stretches his neck downward and plunges his beak into the cold water like a deprived little monster. Vincent gathers a small pile of sticks and retrieves a piece of Fira materia from his belt, setting it ablaze. From this angle, no one will be able to see the blaze.

Without even looking at me, he points to the section of ground at the base of the rock face in a silent command to sit right there and don't move.

I turn the chocobo loose and watch as he trots over to a small patch of tall grass and begins nosing around for greens. So much for trying to break away from the group under the cover of the night. Even if it _was _possible, there's no doubt in the back of my mind that Vincent is faster than he lets on and running would be a very, very stupid move.

I'm dead either way I look at it though. If Vincent doesn't kill me, Scarlet will. And on the off-chance I make it past those two, there's still AVALANCHE to get through. It doesn't matter if I'm there to help or not, Cissnei doesn't have even a fraction of the immunity Jessie once did.

I grab Rekka and draw the war-battered handkerchief from my pocket to clean it with. Oh, it's not dirty by any means. There's just something about having my weapon in my hands where I can see it that adds a sort of personal shield between me and them. Because when I have my weapon, I'm not helpless. And when I'm not helpless, I'm capable of completing my mission. And if I can complete my mission, I get to go home--alive.

"Where'd you get _that _piece of junk?" Yuffie asks from across the fire, rearranging what appears to be several pieces of various elemental materia by color and mastery levels. A fira, bolt, and a thunder. Not very impressive for a ninja.

"Earned it," is all I say.

"It's ugly."

"It's not meant to be pretty." I continue wiping the handkerchief over the sharp edge, resisting the urge to say something in response about her own, lesser kept weapon of choice. That silver atrocity has small flecks of rust below its points. They're not very big, but I can still see them. She must either not take very good care of it, or she's one of those people who changes their weapon at will. Either way, the one she carries looks god-awful heavy in comparison to Rekka.

"How many materia slots does it have?" She puts down her piece of thunder materia and peers over the rising flames.

"One."

"That's stupid."

"It's efficient." I run the handkerchief over the small, mastered blizzaga materia at the weapon's center, feeling the cold tingle through the thin fabric against my fingertips.

"You can't _do _anything with it though."

"Usually I don't have to," I can't help but snipe.

"You're awfully boring for a Turk, you know that?"

I don't even justify that comment with a verbal answer.

Yuffie, sporting a somewhat victorious smirk, leans against the boulder behind her casually. _"Probably has no idea how to even use that thing, or the materia equipped to it. My lucky day."_

"What was that?" My eyes narrow and I pretend to be inspecting Rekka. I don't want her to know that I understood every damn word of that.

Much to her credit, she not only repeats it, but _adds _a second series of insulting words that really shouldn't be repeated that go in line with my incredible 'inexperience' in my 'chosen' career field.

Vincent's looking at us now, a fleeting hint of amusement in those cold eyes. We must look like petty children to him. Instead of giving him the satisfaction of knowing that Yuffie is _really _starting to get on my nerves, I lean Rekka against the base of the rock wall and close my eyes with a sigh.

_She's only doing this for spite_, I try to remind myself. A few more days of this. I can handle that. Maybe.

I don't know how long it takes for Yuffie to finally tire of her juvenile antics before she finally decides that taunting me is no longer fun, but my best guess is a few long hours, because when I finally decide to look at her again, she's managed to curl up by the fire and Vincent's cloak is covering her body not too unlike a little kid on a camping trip.

Vincent sits nearby, perched upon a fallen log, watching the flames. I can't help but notice the sleep materia concealed within his metal claw…Apparently even his tolerance of the local, excuse me, _world's _greatest ninja has its limits.

"You're still awake," he says in a stoic tone.

I try to focus on the flames without meeting his eyes. "I don't sleep well."

"Nightmares?"

"If that's what you want to call them." Though the real reason has a little something to do with his presence and the fact that I am not comfortable with the idea of actually sleeping in the presence of the enemy. I'm not even sure this man does sleep. He doesn't look tired at all.

He nods and looks back at the simmering fire. "They never go away."

"No. No they do not."

"How many?" he asks almost in a casual manner.

"Beg pardon?" I'm not exactly sure just what he wants me to say.

"Kills," he says. "How many?"

"That's none of your concern." And it isn't. He doesn't need to know how many people I've killed over my lifetime. Or any of the horrid things I've done.

Instead of pressing the issue like I expect him to though, he continues looking at the fire. After several minutes of nothing but the crackle of the fire devouring the kindling he tosses towards it, he speaks. "Junon is still a poor choice."

"Maybe so, but it's _my _choice to go there. The sooner, the better."

"You're atoning for something."

Ouch. He's better at reading into things than I originally though.

"Would it matter if I was?" I can't help but challenge in hopes that he gets the hint and backs off. I don't even know why I'm even bothering to talk to him tonight anyway.

"It makes little difference to me," he says. "The road to atonement is a punishing one though."

"I'll take whatever roads I have to at this point. I'm not terribly picky when there are lives on the line."

He glances at me. "Other Turks?"

"No, civilians."

"Turks don't protect civilians."

Oh? And what does he know about Turks? I pick up a small twig and toss it into the flames, watching the bark peel in the heat. "That's not entirely true."

"Shinra doesn't let their watchdogs roam at will. You must either be extremely lucky, or you're skilled."

He's fishing for information. I can tell by the slight change in his voice. I'm a puzzle to him, and he's trying his damnedest to figure me out.

"Chalk it up to experience," I tell him. "I know some tricks Shinra can't even begin to imagine."

"Is that so?" a glint of amusement reflects in his eyes. Maybe it's just the fire playing tricks on me, but it's there. "Just what do you know that they don't?"

"Heh, you wouldn't believe me if I told you the half of it. All you need to know is that I'm far from harmless in Shinra's eyes."

"Just what are you hoping to accomplish in Junon?"

"I'd have to ask you the same."

"Business," is all he says.

"Same."

It's not the answer he's looking for, but it's as good as he's going to get out of me. I've said way too much already. He nods, as if understanding the importance of secrecy. We don't trust each other and that's not about to change any time soon.

"Why did you use Restore?" I can't help but ask, feeling more confident than I probably should be right now. "Nobody's foolish enough to heal a Turk, former or current."

Vincent's eyes surprisingly show no hostility over the question. "You could be useful in the near future."

"You have a lot of high expectations and no ground to put them on."

"That may be so, but it was my choice," his gaze softens for but a second before hardening back into the stern, cold look I've become familiar with. "I have my reasons."

His gaze lingers to Rekka, the flames reflecting across its surface.

"You would be wise to take stock of your materia," he says. "It has a habit of 'vanishing' into thin air without warning."


	46. Written In The Stars

**Okay, so I'm exercising a few of my creative liberties for this chapter and the next. (I've been doing that a lot recently it seems.) After all, there really is no proof or rule that says I **_**can't **_**have what I have happen in this chapter in this particular region at this particular point in the game. If there is, well, I choose to flash my super cool Muse License as proof I know that I'm doing. ;) No one really knows exactly what happens during those seven days lost in the game while Tifa is out of it anyway. Hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. The Muse is feeling kinda un-Muse-like lately for some reason which is making things go ultra slow in the fan fic world. Seriously, it took seventeen cups of coffee over a two day period to get even a small portion of this chapter written. Don't even ask how many it took to actually finish. XD I'm not proud of this one, but hopefully it's passable on quality. I cut it in half so you would get an update reasonably quick and not have to wait two more weeks. The action is in the next chapter which is undergoing editing hell right now since my beta is on vacation and I'm stuck doing it. (And when **_**I **_**do it, it gets ugly as everything gets rewritten. And yes, she's going to find out Vincent was a Turk soon, very soon.) Enjoy folks! **

**Chapter Forty Six - Written In The Stars**

I didn't personally like the idea of an eight hundred pound bird trying to cuddle up to me.

At first, I thought the chocobo had decided he preferred civilization rather than his own space. He was sure as hell making enough noise to wake the dead, who, in this rare case, happened to be me for lack of a better analogy. I didn't mind him being close by. But to actually invade my personal space was asking for trouble.

The shuffling sound continues to grow louder with the faint crackle of the fire and I choose to remain still, eyes closed, mentally trying to picture the imposing animal through the darkness. Better for him to be surprised. He will learn a lot quicker that way.

Only, it isn't feathers that brush against my shoulder. Nor do those footprints sound remotely like talons anymore. Without hesitating, I reach out and find my fingers grabbing bare flesh. A startled yelp fills the air as I scramble to my feet and ram my shoulder into the shoulder of my foe. She falls left, my knee finding leverage against her stomach. It doesn't take very long for me to get one hand around her slender wrist and the other comfortably on the very familiar shuriken in her grasp.

"_I suggest you get your hands off of my weapon before I break your wrist."_

She looks at me with the shame of a kid caught in a cookie jar, eyes wide with surprise at being told off in her native language no less.

Vincent grabs my shoulder and drags me away from the fallen ninja who is now cursing and swearing as she struggles to catch her breath and scurry out of my range of attack.

"She tried to kill me!" Yuffie defends with a whining tone that is more than determined to drive a lethal nail into my coffin. No matter what I say in this situation, it's not going to end well for me. Good lord, I didn't even scratch her. Just winded her. It's not as though I was actually going to kill her. I could have done that easily enough.

"You asked for it," Vincent says.

Wait. What? I glance at him, for once wondering if there is something wrong with my hearing. Did he just-

"But, Vince! She hit me!"

"Be thankful that's all she did," he says, those soulless eyes leaving no room for argument. "You asked for a lot worse."

Yuffie storms to the opposite side of the smoldering campfire with a dejected sigh and sits down, her eyes never leaving the two of us. I can tell she wants to cuss me out, but is holding back on doing so. Because it's just no fun when the person on the receiving end understands it.

Vincent turns towards the skyline where the first hints of magenta are starting to creep over the horizon. "Junon shouldn't be too far from here."

Three days, maybe two if we get lucky and really moving across the plains. I swing Rekka over my shoulder into its more comfortable position and locate the chocobo resting amongst the boulders.

Plenty of natural greens. Perfect. I kneel down and adjust his makeshift bridle so that it doesn't tangle on anything while I'm away.

"What are you doing?"

"Leaving him here," I pat the chocobo on the neck as he warks and nips at my shoulder. "That way I'll know where to find him _if _I need him again. He won't be of much use once we get to Junon."

'If' is a really big word that means something to a Turk. It is the one word that scares the hell out of us because it is one of those words that you really can't plan for and you really don't want to plan for either. It gives a certain level of uncertainty to the equation that makes you wonder about your odds of succeeding and doesn't guarantee a happy ending.

Vincent remains quiet, choosing only to watch me deal with the chocobo with those unnerving eyes of his. I'm fairly certain he's probably had his fair share of those thoughts too. Then again, maybe not. It's hard to tell with a guy like him. Still, you don't get all dark and brooding by sitting high on the fence and watching the hounds frolic all day.

The sun is still beneath the horizon when the three of us set out from the safety of our camp, Vincent taking point for a change. At least he trusts me enough to not turn on him for now. It feels nice to not be in his direct line of fire for once.

Something feels different about the plains today though. It's quiet. The dew on the ground shimmers under the rays of light creeping across the blades of grass. It's cool, and damp, being so early and that will give way to either a comfortable day with a gentle breeze or it will just be blazing hot. Yet, there is something foreign about these plains.

There aren't any animals…

That's what's missing. Nothing but grass and sky. No birds in the air. No rabbits on the plains. More importantly though, no creatures determined to make us their breakfast. It's as though the entire plain decided that today was not worth awakening to. I wouldn't have a problem with it if it wasn't for the fact that the only time I've ever been told that wildlife chooses to remain quiet is when something is threatening them. They're hiding from something. The question is _what_.

I draw Rekka as a small measure of comfort. What would be big enough to put an entire prairie into lockdown though? I scan the area for anything of threat, finding nothing but the endless plains yet to be crossed. There isn't even a breeze this morning.

Vincent seems on edge as well, his eyes locked upon something to the north.

"Sure is quiet out here today," Yuffie stretches her arms above her head with a yawn. "Not like those crickets the other night."

"Quiet," Vincent says, his hand going to the pistol at his side out of instinct and earning a very confused look from Yuffie. His eyes leave whatever he was looking at for a moment and turn upon me. "You know how to read stars right?"

"Depends on how you define read," I tell him. That's not a question I get every day either. "I only know some basic navigation stuff, enough to get to the closest major city I need to get to in an emergency when I don't have GPS or a hard map. Not much else."

"Fair enough." Vincent nods and raises a hand, pointing to the horizon. "That one. What do you know about it?"

I follow his gesture to the horizon submerged in a series of magenta and goldenrod, a part of me wondering just what he is up to now. There shouldn't be any stars out this late and in that direction. They should have faded by now. My eyes find a small prick of glowing red in the ocean of colors and immediately zero in on it, however.

Wait. What in the heck is that thing? It's red, that much I can see. But what _is _it? An aircraft? No. It wouldn't shine like that thing is. That definitely wasn't there yesterday either.

"I know it wasn't there yesterday," is what I say, feeling strangely exposed out here. I don't know what that thing is, but something tells me that its presence is not a good thing.

"I thought so," Vincent says, no doubt equally concerned over it. "The sooner we reach Junon, the better."

"Huh?" Yuffie says, innocent as a child. "I don't get it. It's a star."

"You really should learn how to read them," Vincent says, somewhat amused and sounding more like a teacher disciplining his student. "Could be useful in the future if you ever get lost."

"Me? Get lost? Who do you think you're talking to, Vince," she responds with an indignant scowl. "If it wasn't for my natural sense of direction, we'd still be somewhere in the snow fields. Proper ninjas don't need stars to guide them!"

"Perhaps if you wouldn't take what is not yours while utilizing that natural sense of direction, we would be in Junon by now," Vincent sighs, and I try not to smile at the exchange. These two must have been traveling together for quite some time for her to get away with something like that. Sort of reminds me of a puppy playing with an old hound, not that I would ever admit that Vincent is an old hound to his face. He just seems wiser and more experienced than most, and patient, painfully patient.

It's eerie in a way and reminds me of how Tseng taught me. I'd either do or say something stupid and he would either make an example out of it, allow me to be on my way with a sort of humored "Go ahead, I dare you to try it, but after you make a fool out of yourself, you might actually try learning something from it," sort of look, and then, I would learn something valuable from it eventually.

There are a lot of similarities between Tseng and Vincent.

A cold wind creeps across the prairie from the east, sending the hairs on the back of my neck on end. Something else is here with us.

"Hey, guys," I clutch Rekka and quickly scan the area. Odd. I don't see anything. Yet, I can feel it. Something is here, somewhere. "Does anyone else feel that?"

Vincent looks around, his eyes narrowed and I can tell that he too has picked up on what I have. Even Yuffie seems on edge as she steps closer to him, her own weapon drawn.

North. South. East. West. Where in Hades is it?

The ground begins to shake and a scream like nothing I've ever heard rushes across the prairie towards the three of us, from above, a brilliant flash of molten white light surrounding us like a scalding inferno.


	47. Mutual Respect

**Gosh it seems that every chapter seems to take longer and longer to write lately. It's not even a lack of inspiration or enthusiasm even. Every time I go to sit down to actually work on this (seriously, there is a tiny post-it note that says, "Chapters need written by Friday for Sunday and Tuesday posts") something always comes up that requires my attention, be it a goat standing on the back of the Subaru or the dog terrorizing the three orphaned kittens who spend most of their time pouncing on my feet and climbing onto my keyboard while trying to drink from my coffee cup when I'm not looking.) That and I scrapped the old version of this chapter and rewrote it because I hated it. Anyway, I'm really hoping to get stuff written here on a timely basis, but meh, it doesn't seem to want to happen like I planned. XD Hopefully this chapter will go over a lot better than the last one. It's a little on the "the muse had a serious headache when she wrote this" side and mostly an attempt at what started out as a decent battle scene and became what I fear is going to net me a fair number of questions as to why it plays out the way it does, "You can't do that in this chapter because of (insert appropriate Before Crisis reference scene here)" comments, or whatever else you can throw at me before my first cup of coffee of the day. And yes, we'll be going to Junon **_**and **_**Mideel in the next two chapters, so just something to look forward to on the imminent horizon. Apologies in advance for any grammar issues I missed. The Beta is at summer camp teaching kids not to use poison ivy as toilet paper at the moment. :)  
**

**Chapter Forty Seven - Mutual Respect**

It takes mere seconds for the entire world to go up in molten white flames. The grass doesn't even burn when the light touches it. It vanishes completely and turns the dirt into a smoldering broiler plate that makes Sector One's explosion look like a batch of defective matchsticks.

The first sense of logical thought sends the undeniable command to run, but instinct sends the signal to summon the blizzaga spell and sends a frail shield between the white flames and myself, allowing a precious few seconds to decide just where in the hell to go.

There's no where _to _run. Everything is white and hot as the surge of energy literally tears through the air and picks the earth up like one would a rug to clean it of all dirt. There's not even time to scream properly as the ground falls out from beneath me and I'm thrown against the shifting dirt and rocks, left with only the frantic casting of blizzaga in hopes of somehow surviving this.

God only knows where Vincent and Yuffie are in this chaos.

I don't have time to worry about them right now though. They can take care of themselves.

That inhuman shriek peels through the light with the explosion of rocks and earth being sent high into the air. The resounding earthquake carries the remainder of the white fire outwards in a blinding wave. Rekka doesn't make for a highly effective shield, but it's the best I've got at the moment as I struggle to utilize the upheaval of the earth to my advantage and regain my footing. Seems all that does for me is knock me back against the ground and make things a hundred times worse.

It takes more than a few seconds for the smoke to clear, the world coming back into focus to the familiar morning sky and what was once the majestic green plains. Only now, it looks like a hideous broken landscape not too unlike the wastelands outside of Midgar.

At its center stands a monster that looks as though it walked right out of a book of old fairy tales. Solid black, plate-like scales cover its thick, muscular body. Four broad legs that look more than capable of crushing steel, plant their sword-like claws deep into the earth. A mighty tail whisks across the charred ground, uprooting several boulders. It spreads a pair of thick, leathery wings that seem to be reinforced by a shell of some sort and twists its mighty torso to the left, sweeping a pair of thick arms outward in an intimidating manner. A pointed muzzle that looks like it might belong to some form of dragon sniffs the air before emitting another hostile screech that carries across the area, its attention on something in the earthen rubble.

It is then that I see Vincent standing about two hundred yards on the opposite side of the hideous being, gun drawn. I can't make out just what his eyes say about the situation, only that he's looking at the same location that beast is looking.

Vincent was fast enough to get out of the way. Yuffie, however, was not.

From the looks of it, she managed to skirt being killed outright by sheer luck. The earth she and Vincent had been standing on had collapsed into a small ravine-like crevice and through nothing short of a miracle, she hadn't been caught in the initial blast. Whether or not she was buried by the shifting earth though, remains to be seen. All I do know is that her general location lies directly in the path of one of the most deadly beasts in the history of the planet, assuming we go with Professor Gast's research notes and call this thing one of those WEAPONs he and Ifalna spoke of.

And in less than ten seconds, there probably won't be a ninja left to save, providing she is still alive. I look towards Vincent one more time, trying to read him. He wants to run to the ravine. I can tell by the way he steps forward ever-so-slightly, hesitating, eyes constantly measuring the distance and calculating his odds. It's one of the few human things about him. He obviously gives a damn what happens to her. But I also know that measly gun won't do a whole hell of a lot once he moves either.

Still, he's closer than I am. And even if I could make that kind of time, I wouldn't be able to carry her if she is hurt, or worse. I'm going to regret being so damn nice one of these days.

Measuring the distance I have to work with, I move closer to the intended target. Not by much, but enough that I can get one fairly decent throw in. That's all I'm going to probably get if this works. I gesture towards the ravine with a curt nod towards Vincent and throw my shuriken.

Rekka spins through the air, drawing a shower of sparks as it clips the beast's shoulder where its torso meets its lower portion and is sent right back at me as though it just struck a metal wall. Well that didn't go half as well as I'd hoped.

The beast turns its attention from the ravine towards me, one of its upper claws extended and jaws agape to reveal rows of dagger-like teeth. The ground quivers as it shifts its entire lower extremities for a more solid position and spreads its wings with a deep hiss.

I send Rekka airborne again, this time coupling the attack with a well timed blizzaga spell. It collides with the beast's hollow eye sockets in a shower of ice and sparks. It swings a claw downward and sends a line of broke rocks and dirt high into the air as I run back towards the broken boulders where I'd fallen during the initial attack that left the region barren. Distance. I need to keep my distance. Its tail swings overhead, effectively barring my path in a shower of debris.

Damn the lack of foresight with leaving that chocobo behind. I could really use him right now.

WEAPON draws its head back with a shriek and spreads its wings. For a brief moment, the dark lavender portion of its chest flickers. That cannot be a good thing.

Instead of waiting around to find out though, I throw Rekka. It makes a direct connection with the lavender portion and WEAPON reels backwards with a sharp roar of what could be possible pain. I snatch my weapon out of the air as the ground begins to shake around me, WEAPON moving closer, claws prepared to end this battle quickly.

Blunt force slams into my left side, knocking most of the air from my lungs before I hit the ground. Rekka lands a good few feet away, vanishing into the ashes and dirt. For a moment, the world shakes uncontrollably again and I'm painfully aware of WEAPON's lumbering figure standing over me. Dust stirs up from its hot breath.

The strike of its claw never connects. Instead, a hideous guttural roar tears through the air and the mighty beast turns swiftly to meet a new challenger. I can only hope it is not another WEAPON.

WEAPON shrieks in rage as a lithe violet-skinned beast springs over its back, terrible claws drawing sparks as it bares its deadly teeth in a snarl, a blood red mane streaking in the wind. Horns catching the shadows, it swings downward and slashes at the lavender portion of WEAPON's chest.

WEAPON reels back and spreads its wings with a shriek of rage. Before the blue-skinned beast can attack it again, it's airborne, flying off towards the mountains. Hopefully it won't come back anytime soon.

The beast lands splay-legged in the ashes. God only knows what that thing will do to me.

Instead of attacking though, it looks towards the ground with what appears to be a sharp wince of pain, the thick violet muscles quickly contorting back into the form of a man. Within minutes, a very familiar gunslinger regains his footing and dusts himself off with a look towards the mountain where WEAPON retreated.

I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought…

Vincent's gaze falls upon me but instead of a sharp, curt command this time, he offers me the hand that's not sporting a metal claw and helps me to my feet. Everything hurts. Doesn't feel like anything is broken though. Just bruised. Really bruised.

"You read body language well," he says while I dig around in the dirt for my shuriken.

"It's kind of a key part of my job." Ah. Found it. "Among other things. How's Yuffie?"

"Aside from a bruised ego, she will survive." From what I can see, Yuffie's seated on the ground not far from the ravine, covered in dirt, clutching her own shuriken and looking absolutely miserable.

"That's good to hear." I'm not particularly fond of the 'World's Greatest Ninja,' but the fact that she is alive and capable of stealing more materia offers some sort of comfort. I don't think I could have handled a funeral today.

"You served under Veld, didn't you?"

"Veld?" I look at him, probably looking like a confused idiot at being caught off-guard by the question. He just turned into a god knows what that thing was to fight a legendary WEAPON of all things and he's asking about the Turks? Priorities, buddy. He's serious about this though, if not vaguely amused in a disturbing sort of way in the way he looks at me. "Why do you ask?"

"Curiosity."

Vincent? Curious? Yeah right. Still, I'm bothered by the fact that he would actually know of Veld. Not a lot of people currently living do.

"No one's 'curious' about the Turks, especially someone like Veld. He wasn't exactly a popular person."

"Maybe _I _am," Vincent crosses his arms across his chest and watches me work on cleaning my weapon for several seconds. "Fight to the death doesn't strike me as a modern Turk habit. They usually run away when things get heated."

"Probably because dying really sucks. Did you ever think about that?" My eyes narrow, somewhat offended by the accusation. "We're not exactly immortal. Had I the option, I would have run."

"No. You wouldn't have," he says. "Running is not in your nature."

"Who the hell are you to tell me what my nature is or isn't?" There's no way I am going to win this. I can only hope Yuffie can't hear any of this from here because I really don't need to field her backlash yet. "You don't know a damn thing about me."

"You didn't run." A hint of amusement tinges those eyes, but vanishes before it can fully materialize. He knows I can't do much to him at this point. "You were trained not to. That comes from a different era of the Turks."

"You know an awful lot about the Turks," I clutch Rekka, my eyes staring directly at his, pinning him in place. "Who are you?"

"No one of any importance. Give Veld my regards when you see him again though."

"Won't be happening," I assure him. "Veld hasn't been in charge of the Turks for several years now."

Not since certain 'incidents' occurred anyway. Holy only knows if that man is alive or dead right now. More likely dead, but who am I to speculate. Our relationship was based solely on very fragile respect. That man absolutely hated me and considered me to be far more useless than Reeve could ever hope to be, no matter what Tseng thought. The fact that I managed to return from my missions, which seemed to always put him in a foul mood, was usually all the proof that I really needed to confirm that.

Still, my words must mean something to Vincent, as he remains quiet for several minutes. He does that far too often sometimes and I'm trying to brace myself for whatever he decides to come at me with from this.

"That's probably for the best," he finally says, no emotion evident, and it surprises me. "Even the lead dog needs to retire eventually. Who killed him?"

"Wouldn't know."

"Then that is how it is." Vincent nods, accepting the answer as is, and looks towards the mountains where WEAPON vanished once more.

"Who are you really? You seem awfully _informed _for someone of no importance." Informed is an understatement. Vincent is just downright creepy. Though I'm uncomfortable with just asking him outright about his connection to Veld, or what's really on my mind about the whole possibility, I figure it's best to approach this like a Turk should, with caution.

"Someone from a different time, when things were simple and rules meant something."

"So, which of the big three did _you _piss off," I can't help but ask, which earns a look from him that borders on both surprise and amusement.

"That is a bold assumption."

I swing Rekka over my shoulder and look towards Yuffie, who sorts her materia to appear busy. "No one brings up something like that without having a reason to. And since you obviously know things only a few people could possibly know, there is a fair chance you probably really pissed someone off at some point. I'm kind of curious as to which branch it was."

"You're observant."

"You left a lot of pieces for me to work with. However, I'm under no obligation to assemble them anymore than you are of the pieces of my own past that you have to work with."

I wasn't going to ask the exact reason for Vincent's sudden willingness to delve into what was obviously something personal. Or show any real surprise that the possibility of him being a Turk could even be possible. All I know is that all of the pieces of the puzzle are there and that assembling them is a very dangerous game indeed, something I'm not sure I really want to do.

"Fair enough," he says. "I'm after Hojo."

"Scarlet," I tell him.

He nods. "Business in Junon."

"You said it yourself, sir," I begin walking back to where Yuffie is still sitting. "The road to atonement is a difficult one."

"A moral compass comes in handy." Every muscle tenses as he places his hand atop my shoulder, effectively stopping me in my tracks. "Follow it. Even when your instincts tell you otherwise. It will make the journey seem worthwhile when it comes to its end."


	48. Eternal Day

**I'm alive! I didn't fall into the super secret portal of lost Muses. ::shifty eyes:: No, I didn't. The tabloids lie! Sorry, couldn't resist. Been that kind of week, er, month. That and the powers that be felt compelled to literally destroy my self-esteem when it comes to writing anything. (Imagine 120 professional flamers in your inbox over something you worked four years on, only not half as nice and all you can do is take it like a Muse.) Yeah, it got rather ugly in July, so I needed to take a mental break. But now I'm back! Anyway, I bring you an update! I'm hoping this chapter works better than I think it does since it incorporates a tiny bit of a time skip because yes, I just didn't feel that many awkward chapters of walking across fields was productive for anyone. There are still some parts I don't really like about this chapter, (it's part one of two and in my opinion gets sort of redundant and boring at times, but if I didn't break it in half, you wouldn't have an update at all) xD I am going to try to have the second part of this up next week sometime, so at least pretend this chapter works for now. ;) Enjoy folks. **

**Chapter Forty Eight - Eternal Day**

On the third day, the clouds roll in. Like a thick, impenetrable shield, they cover the sky, never shifting, never moving. Just hanging there, creating a blanket of gray above the three of us. I've heard of those sort of days in a figurative sense, but really? The only thing that would make it even more miserable right now would be if there was rain falling from those endless clouds.

Yuffie trudges on ahead beside Vincent, stifling a yawn and no doubt cursing the fact that we're not yet in Junon. I can't blame her. We must have walked a fair distance and it doesn't feel as though we are getting any closer to our destination at all.

"Vince," she whines, finally gathering up enough strength to complain. "Can we please stop for a little while. I'm tired and my feet hurt."

"We'll stop when the sun sets." Vincent keeps his eyes set on the endless plains before us and keeps walking. A valiant effort on her behalf at least.

Yuffie mumbles something under her breath and struggles to keep up with him, but it is evident that she is, if it is even possible, tired. And if _she's _tired, then we must have walked well past the usual distance today.

I reach for the PHS on my belt, half wondering if I should bother calling Reeve for an update on the situation in Junon. Or better yet, try to figure out just where in the hell we are. I know we were heading in the right direction, but that seems like ages ago and with the clouds, we probably won't get a glimpse at any stars tonight either. Something just feels off today.

Vincent gives me a sort of odd look, but doesn't stop me as I flip the device open and begin searching for the all too familiar GPS feature. I feel a little stupid looking for something that should be common sense, but it never hurts to check.

I don't even get to the right screen before the tiny numbers at the bottom of the screen catch my attention.

A little after three in the morning?

For a moment I can only stare. This can't be right. It must have been damaged when Vincent threw me against that tree a few days ago. I have it set to change time zones with it's global position, but are you kidding me? There's just no way that time can be right.

Vincent notices my abrupt halt and looks at me, somewhat irritated, as I look from the PHS to the clouds and back again.

"What's wrong?"

"I don't suppose either of you happen to have a watch, do you?" It's a long shot, but on the off-chance Yuffie might have picked one up in her travels, it would be incredibly helpful right about now.

"No," Vincent says. "Why?"

"Because I need to see if this thing is broken. According to this, it's three twenty two in the morning."

I can tell he's not convinced. "The sun is still out. We keep walking."

At the mention of more walking, Yuffie reaches into the small pack at her side and fishes out, much to my surprise, what looks like a PHS that has seen better days. Without even pausing, she tosses it to me.

"It's not a watch, but maybe it will help?"

I have doubts this thing can make calls let alone tell me what I need to know, but it might save me a phone call to Reeve if it really is three in the morning here. Not that Reeve's not a night owl himself, but if he's still in Condor, I doubt he'd like to hear from me that early. If he could even receive phone calls at all. I think he's not on the Turk grid now that I think about it.

I flip the PHS open and take a look at the screen. Still set to Modeoheim's time. It looks about right. Something is definitely going on up there in the sky behind those clouds. Hmmm. Wonder if I can check the communications grid with this thing. It looks old enough.

I begin typing in Reeve's number, listening to see if it will go through. My own will go to his voice mail. If I'm right, hers won't.

"Hey!"

"Mine uses a different grid than yours does," I tell her. "I'm trying to find out our odds in Junon at the moment."

Only the dead static responds. Thank Gaia. The lines are still down. Hopefully, they'll stay down a little bit longer.

I toss it back to her. "It's definitely morning. We should probably rest for a few hours and then try to reach Junon sometime later today. Those lines won't stay down forever."

"Lines?" Vincent arcs an eyebrow.

"Something happened that knocked out the entire Shinra communications grid," I tell him, stopping short of saying that I know exactly what that something was. "They can't communicate with Midgar while they're down. The military is literally down to whatever is in Junon and the surrounding area at the moment."

The explanation seems to suffice for the moment and for the fist time in almost twenty-four hours, we decide to rest for the day.

By the seventh day, there is no night. The sky has taken on a hideous crimson hue, the red light bathing everything in a hostile, angry glow. The waters of the sea in the distance are red, like blood. The rusty walls of Junon's city are blackened by its presence and from this angle it appears as though it will sink into the sea.

We walk a little closer together now, each of us within an arm's reach of one another. Each of us are trying to make it out to be no big deal. That there is nothing unusual about the arrangement. You can tell though, we're all trying to hide it by pressing towards the city in the distance.

None of us have spoken since the sky turned crimson. Not even Yuffie has said anything. She only looks at Vincent and me from time to time as though our presence will change the inevitable. We exchange looks from time to time too, but none of us look at the sky anymore.

Yesterday it broke through the first layer of the clouds, burning them away as though they were little more than paper. There had been flames across the sky and at first I thought it might have been WEAPON returning. When the flames cleared, there it was, churning towards us. A massive ball of molten rock, fire shielding its surface, burning hot enough to challenge the sun. It was the first time I've seen Vincent look frightened.

Meteor…

I cannot look at it. I feel it watching us from behind that wall of flames, laughing at us, mocking us with its very presence. To look at it means to give it the satisfaction of knowing that I'm scared. To let it know that no matter what I do, it will crush any and all efforts to survive.

When it falls, and it will, there will be nowhere to run from its wrath. There is only one way out and none of us want to think about it. We don't know when it will fall, only that it will.

We reach the shore along the outskirts of Junon in less than a few hours, the graying sands sharp against the rusty sea rolling over our footprints. If we're lucky, we can reach the lower slum portion of the city undetected by keeping close to the bluffs.

"This place sucks," Yuffie says and links her hands behind her neck in a casual manner. "There's no good materia."

"It's not supposed to have good materia," Vincent answers her in his typical stoic manner, despite her ability to shine some semblance of normalcy on the situation. "Focus."

"Yeah, but Vince, how are we gonna get up there?" she points to the upper level of the city where the buildings are stacked like old shipping crates in mockery to the ocean winds that tore away the paint decades ago. "They took the whistle with them…"

"We won't need it." Vincent gives her a stern look and continues across the sands, his cape fluttering in the stiff ocean breeze.

Pieces of metal lie along the beach with edges jagged and coated in oil and sand. They look fairly new yet and I kneel beside a particularly jagged piece out of curiosity. These came from a ship of some sort. A big ship, possibly a freighter.

I scan the beach further ahead of us, picking out hundreds of other pieces. I don't remember these being here before. Something tore apart a ship…Something big.

"I don't like this."

"Keep moving," he tells me, as though the pieces of a freighter are no big deal. "We'll be there soon."

The water darkens a short time later, the rocky beach permanently stained with oil and metallic residue from waste dumped into the water from the city above it. Rusted pipes are submerged beneath the water's surface, leading under a rising tower that crackles and sparks as molten lines of light arc between the transmitters. Those pipes don't go to the tower though. They lead to the mighty eyesore mounted atop the wall of solid steel, aimed for the opposing continent at the moment. Scarlet's all-time favorite toy, the Sister Ray.

Yuffie shudders at the sound of the tower and looks at Vincent. "I am so not climbing that. Nuh uh."

"We're not going to," he says and looks at me.

No way in Hades buddy. I take a step backwards, wondering just how far I could get before he'd catch up to me. I've no desire to even try climbing that damn thing.

"You know your way around here I assume." He points to the narrow dirt path leading up to a small stretch of scattered wooden buildings that look as though they will collapse at any second. Junon used to be a beautiful city I was told. I just can't picture it. "You take point."

We make our way up the cracked and broken stone steps that had been laid back when the city was founded and soon meet the broken gravel street that weaves among the dwellings. It's surprisingly quiet here tonight. Most of the windows are dark, despite it being late afternoon. The doors are closed, locked to prevent the patrolling soldiers from ransacking the place. The lead bitch never was very subtle when she was angry.

A few children play in the streets while an older fisherman stares at the carcass of a fish and simply shakes his head. The waters are too polluted for anything of much worth to be caught.

"I hear they caught the bastards responsible for it."

The words are curt, if not a little boastful and it immediately draws my attention. Motioning for Vincent and Yuffie to remain quiet, I keep to the shadows and pretend to be admiring the same fish carcass the older gentleman is from a distance. Good. They haven't seen us.

"Gaia bless President Shinra. About time someone caught them. It was that group, wasn't it? What their names, snow something?" A woman holding a basket of sickly vegetables shakes her head and looks over the fence to the man behind a wheelbarrow of wood.

"AVALANCHE," he nods. "That damn Wallace fellow and a few of his buddies did it. They caught the bastards though. Rumor has it they're gonna broadcast their deaths worldwide. One right after another."

"Good. Those inhumane demons deserve to die an excruciatingly painful death. Their victims never got to choose, so why should they? Karma's a bitch sometimes."

It takes every ounce of restraint to keep from storming over there right now. Vincent's hand upon my shoulder prevents me from doing so and he gives me a stern look. I never told him much about my mission here, but I think he's putting those pieces together now.

I turn away from the gossipers and begin walking towards the elevator lift. A pair of infantrymen stand guard, trying to look all important-like behind those helmets with their guns leaning against their shoulders. I draw Rekka.

"You're not serious," Yuffie just about shrieks, beyond uncomfortable at this point. She's not stupid. She knows that those two infantrymen can call down a whole brigade on us in an instant. Just because communications are down doesn't mean the base itself is. We need to move quick.

"You any good with that thing?" I hold Rekka level with my target and double check my surroundings. Good. No one sees us.

Yuffie gives me a horrified look but Vincent nods in agreement with me. Gunshots will draw attention. You can't hear a shuriken until it's upon you or you're looking for it.

She looks at the heavy shuriken in her hands, her wrists trembling slightly.

"It's either them or us," I assure her. "You take the left. I'll go right. Now."

Rekka gets there first, taking down the first infantryman before he can even cry out in warning. A full second later, his comrade collapses against the cement and steel wall.

Let's do this.

"Not bad, kid, but you've got some work to do." I sprint across the open space and retrieve my weapon from the infantryman's sternum quickly. Without thinking twice, I grab the communicator from his belt and place it upon my own.

"Who are you calling a kid!" Yuffie sprints after me, looking visible shaken as she retrieves her weapon and pales at the blood dripping from it. A quick look to Vincent for reassurance goes unheeded and he merely steps over the fallen bodies to stand at my side.

I quickly type in the security code and watch the little button flash green, the lift grinding open with a loud shriek. Dull, iridescent light greets us with the cold, metal air. I bank a quick left and slam Rekka against the little black box beside a small maintenance stairwell's door. No sense getting Reeve into trouble yet.

"You've done this before," Vincent deadpans.

"You have your ways of doing things-" I cross three of the wires and give them a quick twist. A spark jumps and the door's lock disengages. "Allow me to share some of mine."


	49. Chicken Coop Chess

**You guys and gals are awesome! I didn't expect to get such supportive reviews and PMs like that for that last chapter. You're all so fantastic! Apologies that this update is not quite on schedule. It wasn't that it wasn't written on time this time that held it up. It was done three days prior to this actually. The problem was that my router kicked the bucket and I spent my free time fixing that so that I could get this posted. Hopefully, the router will stay working for more than an hour. That said, I took **_**extremely **_**creative liberties with this particular chapter as far as naming battalions and where in the heck everything is in Junon, as well as defending a belief that yes, I believe Scarlet's men to be as confused and downright stupid as they appear in this particular chapter-no one said she kept the brightest of the bright in Junon. It's a long chapter too (topping 3500 words, so I cut the whole Junon scene into two chapters for my own sanity) but I think (at least hope) this one will not disappoint. Enjoy this chapter folks. I'm working on the second part of this one now, and will be mega-glad when we're out of this horrid city and in Mideel. ^_^ **

**Chapter Forty Nine - Chicken Coop Chess**

Junon has always been the favorite playground for Turks. These salt-corroded streets have given us hours of practice honing our skills by offering up just the right balance of serious work and less-than-harmless fun. No one looked twice when we were around. No one gave us the time of day. Probably because we scared them shitless half the time. One never exactly knew just what was going to go down when we were in town.

Today though, I'm hoping to challenge Reno's old record of chaos. I don't have a choice in the matter. It's like playing a poorly planned game of chess against someone who knows how to professionally cheat and I have a less than adequate selection of pieces to work with and even fewer moves.

Keeping the wall to my back, I watch a clueless infantryman patrolling the segment of the street the maintenance stairwell leads to. He's new, probably fresh off the recruitment list. He lacks the professionalism of his rank, which is really saying a lot, because they don't have a lot of dignity and class to begin with.

I like my odds.

Yuffie gives me a horrified look, but I ignore her as I stalk said infantryman with my eyes, picking out his predetermined path along the street and the salt-corroded buildings beyond. It's a quiet section of town-a rarity considering where we are at the moment-and there will be no better place to cast the first lots of chaos.

He goes down in a shower of ice without so much as a flinch. Vincent looks at me, looking somewhat impressed, if not a little surprised.

"I didn't kill him," I assure the two of them and return the Blizzaga materia to Rekka. "I need him alive. The longer he's out though, the better. Come on. We need to find a couple more like him."

Much to his credit, Vincent doesn't ask what exactly I have in mind, but it seems to put Yuffie at ease that we won't be taking out any more of them the way we did back at the lift. We have to move fast though. It won't take them long to find him and we need to be in position before that happens if we are going to have any chance at cheating at this game.

Infantrymen are in better supply on the opposite side of first wall of buildings leading towards the main drag and more populated portions of the city. It doesn't take the three of us long to dispatch several small battalions of them and reach a strip of seedy little shops tucked along the inside of a darker alleyway.

"You know your way around here fairly well," Vincent says and sweeps into the shadows with Yuffie in pursuit.

"Don't have much of a choice at the moment," I grab the communications device from my belt as it crackles. Right on schedule.

"_Alpha Squad to Citrine, come in." _The first voice echoes, sounding slightly on edge.

"_Citrine Squad, here." _comes the reply from the southeastern side of town four alleyways over.

"_What's your side of town look like?"_

"_Five of mine are down. Looks like materia. Yourself?" _

"_All of mine, same. No reply from Beta Squad. Topaz has yet to even report."_

"_Son of a bitch. You mean this is widespread?" _

"_How the Hell would I know?"_

"_Beta__ to Alpha, Citrine. What the Hell is going on?" _enters a third voice, no doubt closer to where the first infantryman fell. _"My whole goddamn squad is down." _

"_Copy Beta Squad. What about Topaz?" _

"_No answer." _

"_Shit. Okay, gather everyone in your sections and secure the main drag. Got that. No one gets past. Not until we figure out who the hell is responsible for this. We need to get this under control before it gets out of hand and you know who gets word of this." _

I motion for Vincent and Yuffie to remain quiet as I fiddle with the small dial on the communications device until it's on the lines a higher ranking sergeant would use. Dropping my voice somewhat lower and hoping I sound at lease somewhat like a man, I hit the transmit button. "Topaz to Alpha, come in."

"_Alpha here. Where the hell have you guys been? I've been trying to reach you for a while now." _

"Have a situation down here at the lift," I tell him. "They killed two of my men."

"_Killed? Damn it. They only wounded ours. Did you get a look at them?"_

"There were two of them," I tell him. Yuffie pales considerably and I can tell she's about ready to just give us up right this second. Vincent prevents her from doing so. "We have a Code C-4A on our hands. They were dressed like infantrymen."

"_What?" _The disbelief simply astounds me sometimes. _"You're kidding right?"_

"Are you questioning my authority, solider?"

"_No, Sir. But there are hundreds of people dressed like that in this city alone!" _

"Well round them all up then and find these two, damn it!" I tell him in my most authoritative sounding voice. "Because if you don't, when I deliver my report, it's going to be _your _head I offer for not stopping them after I told you to."

"_Yes, sir. Will commence search immediately, sir." _

"Good. Let me know when you have them in custody. I'll clean up here and join you on the seaside harbor fairway."

His line goes dead and I listen as he relays the disturbing news to the other battalions. I cannot help but smile as I listen for the chaos erupting across the lines as hundreds begin instantly denying they were responsible for killing the top battalion's men.

I put the communication's device on standby so that it won't relay any information while we're in transit and point to the alleyway. "This is where I get to ask you two something. Why are you in Junon?"

"We can't tell you that." Yuffie says and crosses her arms across her chest. "Right Vincent?"

"We're looking for someone."

If Yuffie could look any more surprised by the slight change in her comrade, I'd probably have been turned into a frog or something. She looks like an imp that has just been denied a shiny object.

"AVALANCHE?" I ask. He nods.

"Vincent!" Yuffie practically shouts in disbelief, but he silences her with a look.

"We can trust her."

"But she's a-"

"She won't betray us."

"But, Vince, how do you know? I mean, she's on _their _side!"

"I trust her." He gives her a look of near-amusement and I can tell that he _knows_. Damn it. Instead of saying anything though, he merely looks at me.

"Look," I tell her. "You don't know me. I never saw you two. We get AVALANCHE off the butcher's block and go our separate ways. Quick, simple, and nobody on this side of the fence gets killed. Good enough?"

"Wait, why are you helping us?"

This kid asks far too many questions. I begin walking towards a small side road that will take us closer to upper Junon. The way should be clear right now, but it won't stay that way for long once the real sergeant of Topaz Squad gets word of this. "It's personal."

"Aw come on, you know about us! Why can't we know about you?"

"Yuffie," Vincent says in a sharp manner. "She only knows what she's been told. It is not our place to pry into her 'business.'"

"Well that's not fair."

"In case you haven't noticed, they plan on publicly executing every member of AVALANCHE they have in custody in a little under an hour. If they have any chance of surviving, then we need to get to that building," I point to the towering stronghold rising from the main drag of Junon's main lower district. "They're more than likely being held in the maximum security section close to the top floor. Probably level 7 or 8. Scarlet likes to keep her prey close. We get past this road and hit the maintenance stairwell beside the lift and we can reach level 6 fairly easily. Once we get past that, we'll be in the temporary clear. But we need to hurry."

It seems to suffice, at least for now, and we move from the seedy little alleyway and along the main lower drag, which is surprisingly crowded given the circumstances. Civilians mingle around the area, all trying to get a glimpse of the live execution that will be broadcast in a little under fifty minutes. Damn vultures. They have no idea what's going on here.

The awful crimson light cast by Meteor is intense as I pry the metal door open to grant us access to the upper portion of Junon some ten minutes later. It seeps into the rust-colored sea visible from the street stretching between the partially opened emergency gates Junon is oh so proud of for their back up security. The salt clings to the air in a thick, foreboding sense and I cannot help but feel that this is a bad omen. It's too quiet here. Far too quiet despite the excitement of the god-awful witch hunt that is meant to quench the civilians' thirsts for blood.

Vincent's abrupt stride close by tells me that he's on guard as well. Despite the buildings to my left, it feels as though we are back on the Junon plains, vulnerable again, if not more so beneath that hideous thing in the sky's gaze. A light tremble courses through the pavement below us. We're close to the airstrip.

A flash of dark blue in the sea of red. The glint of harsh light off of the barrel of an automatic weapon.

I duck into a small overhang of what might be a house, maybe a shop. Hell, I don't care what it is right now. That's not important. All I care about is not catching the eye of that infantryman trying to herd the civilians in some sort of valiant effort away from the gate so that they do not 'accidentally' slip through and get to the higher levels of the city. He's like the others, clumsy, inexperienced even.

If he sees the three of us together in the crowd though, we're screwed. I quickly survey the distance to the gate as he draws closer and can see three more engaged in equal maneuvers like this one is. Looks like this is going to be a Turk's job.

"The lift beyond that gate goes to the airfield," I tell them in a low whisper. "If we get past that, we can get to the security room and I can take the entire city's surveillance system offline. Until then, stay quiet, move quickly, and let me do my 'job.'"

I hand Rekka to Yuffie and the communications device that links me to the lower rungs of the military to Vincent. I can't afford to be seen with either for this to work.

"Yuffie, give me your PHS." She hands it to me a bit grudgingly and I type a familiar number onto the screen for a one time call. "You have _no _right to call this number ever again after this one time. Got that? Three minutes and you call it. Play along with everything that I say. And Yuffie. Don't even think about stealing that piece of materia while it's in your possession."

"Are you sure about this?" she looks at the number, and I can see the wheels in her mind turning on what possibilities exist.

"Trust me. I know what I'm doing."

Vincent nods, no doubt familiar with how this whole things works. Yuffie allows a brief, mischievous grin. Drawing a sharp breath and wondering just how far I can push my luck before it gets the upper hand on me, I walk towards the gate, trying to look as casual as humanly possible. I'm a Turk. I can do this.

The infantryman spots me immediately and begins walking over, the motion unnoticed to his comrades who are still trying to shoo the civilians away from the edge of the street where they've decided to roost to watch Meteor churn up there.

"This is a designated military area beyond this point. You're not authorized to pass."

With a sigh and pretending to be somewhat disgruntled at being 'held up' from my 'mission,' I look at him coldly. "I don't suppose this 'authority' of yours has anything to do with that C-4A situation I've been hearing about in lower Junon does it? Because if it does, it's not _my _problem."

"You know about that?" For a moment, the infantryman pauses, as though trying to work through that thick skull of his just what department I'm from. No, stupid. I know _nothing _about it at all. I'm only the one responsible you nit wit.

"How can I not?" I tell him, the business side of me taking over as though this is just another job. "Our department was drafted to 'assist' in wrangling your department's little screw up so that it doesn't get any worse than it already is. If you insist on preventing me from doing my job, I think Heidegger might be able to sweet talk Scarlet into finding room for the culprit responsible for the gate incident with the AVALANCHE members she already has."

His wrists tremble at the words and I'm fairly certain that although _he _knows he's innocent, anything a 'Turk' might say would override that and make his case a moot footprint at best. There's a reason we're feared.

"I was told though…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I see Vincent and Yuffie making their move, the World's Greatest Ninja having been reduced to all business with Vincent leading the way. He's good.

"And _I _was told I need to be where I need to be when I need to be there. It's bad enough that there are potential members of AVALANCHE possibly planning a terrorist attack in this city right now. To be detained at an area that I know I have the authorized security clearance to pass through is just going to cause you more problems down the road when this gets back to my boss."

"How do I know you're a real Turk though?"

Check and mate. I take a step closer to him, removing the pistol from its holster in one quick, casual motion.

"You really want to try your luck." I press the pistol's barrel against his stomach and look directly at his helmet in challenge with the cold look that identifies me as one of the elite members of the watchdog pack. "I believe I'm authorized to 'deal with' anyone who is a person of interest and use my own discretion in how I do it. Now would be a good time to tell me why I shouldn't kill you."

If that didn't get his attention, nothing will and he all but collapses in terror at just how fine of a line he is walking right now.

My PHS shrills and I pretend to look annoyed as I answer it. "What's the situation?"

"_Um, we're at a small platform sort of thing. Looks like a long corridor with stairs. Is that where we were supposed to go?" _

"Yeah," I tell her, keeping my focus upon the infantryman trembling before me. "I've been held up by an infantryman who seems to think he has the authority to detain me though, Sir. Your orders?" They're not real, but I'm hoping Yuffie at least gets the hint to come up with something somewhat feasible enough and quickly before I draw suspicion and have to talk to myself.

There is a shuffle on the other line and I can tell that Vincent has taken possession of the phone.

"_Then tell him I'll come down there myself to deal with him, and if I have to come down there, I will be adding one more person to the execution today." _

I cannot help but smirk at just how casual he sounds about that. He's played this game before. Good.

"I'll definitely tell him that, sir." I look towards the infantryman, keeping the PHS to my ear. "My boss is _not _amused. I've been given the authorization to take you into custody if you refuse to cooperate with our department's current agenda. And trust me, you don't want that. Reno's got a rather nasty habit of 'roughing' the prisoners up a little before they move on to Scarlet's methods."

I think the poor guy is probably just about ready to piss himself at the threat because he takes a step back with a hasty attempt at a salute and I quickly return the gun to its holster, daring him to tell me I have to stay here with him with a look.

"Don't let me keep you, sir, er-"

"Don't even bother," I tell him. "Stick to your business and we'll stick to ours, got it? Less trouble that way."

He nods and attempts a salute that I brush off as I turn my attention back to the PHS. "We got it straightened out, Sir. Be there soon."

Leaving the rather terrified infantryman standing there in the crowd, I begin walking, pretending I'm following the typical route for a Turk going uptown. No one bothers to stop me, no doubt scared that I'll target them next, having seen the entire display.

Once I feel I am out of range, I bank a casual left and break into a run, covering the distance quickly until I catch sight of Vincent's crimson cloak in the shadows up ahead, waiting for me with a look on his face that says he is rather pleased with the performance.

That infantryman's no doubt checking my story against his superior's range of authority right now, who will take the message to the top brass in minutes. I accept my shuriken quickly and begin climbing the twisted metal stairwell with Vincent and Yuffie flanking me.

I'd rather it be no other way. You want the farmer to come out of the house to get the fox, you gotta play with the chickens for a little while first.


	50. Deny All Knowledge

**The Muse is mighty proud of herself this week. She got something done on semi-time, **_**while **_**pulling a double shift at work. (Would have been done sooner, but my glasses went missing Monday and were not found until Tuesday afternoon. And a Muse without her glasses is a very cranky creature indeed.) Pat yourselves on the backs folks. Your kind reviews and the fact that people are actually reading this fic are awesome motivators to get my rear in gear and actually write stuff. That said, this chapter contains more Junon fun and answers a few questions I felt were lacking in the actual game as well as adds to a few scenes using my awesome creative liberty license. : ) (Braces herself for the differing of opinions that will probably be caused by just how a certain scene in this chapter plays out towards the end.) Know folks that in order for this entire arc to work in THIS story, that scene HAS to end the way it does. It will be explained later in the plot. ;) Enjoy this wonderfully long chapter folks! Seriously, it is the longest chapter in the entire fic to date at almost 8,500 words. **

**FYI: No hope for an update next week. I'm stuck in editing Hell again with non-fan fiction stuff. Updates will resume the following week, hopefully on **_**both **_**fics. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty - Deny All Knowledge**

The halls smell of rust and blood. Every steel wall reflects the artificial light in a haunting aura as we navigate the twisted corridors towards the 'bitch's brig' as we often referred to it as.

Vincent moves easily through the shadows, gun held at the ready for any infantrymen unfortunate enough to get in our way. Yuffie follows along behind him, eyes scanning the area every few seconds for threats. I keep Rekka at the ready and take point, listening for the sound of footsteps seeking our lives.

Behind us. I can hear the scurry of their worn leather boots over metal as they begin combing the area in dare I even say it, some semblance of organization and attempted skill. I'm somewhat disappointed. I would have thought Scarlet would have at least sounded some sort of alarm by now. Guess she does have that reputation of, "No one gets past security" to uphold I suppose, especially with all eyes on her today.

A flash of blue rounds the corner behind us.

He falls dead before it registers who we are and can shout to summon the others, Vincent standing with a look of absolute loathing in his eyes, pistol raised and awaiting any others who care to join their comrade.

"This way," I tell him and make a left down a narrow corridor, breaking into a run as the echo of footsteps drawn by the gunshot breach the corridor behind us. If we can shake them by the security gate, we might have a chance of freeing AVALANCHE before the whole goddamn army comes down on us.

"This doesn't look like the prisoner's block," Vincent says and aims behind him, catching one of the infantrymen in the chest. Nice shot.

"We're taking a little detour," I tell him and listen to the sound of footsteps rushing towards us. This place is a terrible maze today. "Make a right."

A group of infantrymen shout their 'authoritative' warnings for us to stop as they raise their weapons to fire. Vincent lays out two of them with a quick squeeze of the trigger as I cast Rekka through the air, bowling over the remaining four in a shower of ice and steel. Yuffie watches the display in horror, no doubt finding this whole spectacle barbaric. We don't get a choice today. It's either them or us and I'd prefer it be them if I can help it.

I catch Rekka before it can hit her and pitch it at the far wall where a tiny black box is mounted to control the gate above it. A shower of sparks is my reward and I motion for them to hurry as the gate begins its decent downwards.

Gunshots ricochet through the hollow corridor as the gate crashes down behind us with a horrid screech, effectively trapping the infantrymen on the opposing side of two feet of solid steel. I point to a second black box across the intersection we've arrived at.

"Vincent, you shoot the green light on that box. I'll get that last one."

"Exactly what is that proving anyway?" Yuffie scowls, and I can tell she's regretting the choice to embark on this rapidly spiraling out of control mission. "We'll be trapped."

"You ever see a mouse in a maze?" I ask her and catch Rekka a short time after it dispatches the last gate-lock.

"What's that have to do with this?"

"Have you ever seen one?"

"Yeah," she says in annoyance. "They're pretty stupid. All they do is bump into walls and stuff trying to find a stupid piece of cheese."

"That may be so," I point to the gates locked securely in place from this side of the wall. "But have you ever see one where the mice control the game?"

"Is that even possible?"

"Today it is."

She watches Vincent and me with a scrutinizing look as we move through the wider corridor, anticipating the next wave of infantrymen from this side to soon be upon us.

It doesn't take long until the familiar black arrow pointing to the right hand corridor is in view. An infantryman slumps to the ground courtesy of Vincent and by now, it's become a simple hit and run sort of method to dealing with these guys. He shoots first, I take out whatever's left behind. If we're lucky, and so far, we have been, we can keep Yuffie as our backup in case things get too far out of hand.

Cell Block 1B, reserved for the most hardened and down-on-their luck criminals. Rekka easily dispatches the security camera along with the remaining guards, allowing us access to a darker hallway that smells musty with death's presence.

"Damn," a voice says from the third cell on the right. "Sounds like they're finally coming to get us, Red."

"You," the second voice corrects matter-of-factly from the opposing cell. "I've been sentenced to a fate worse than death."

"At least they'll probably feed you though. Trillion dollar company and can't even get a goddamn cup of tea before I die. Some execution."

"You wouldn't like the tea," Vincent quips and crosses his arms across his chest. "Too bitter."

There is an abrupt shuffling of bodies and a furry, crimson muzzle pokes through the bars. "Vincent? Is that really you?"

"Well I'll be damned," the grizzled airman wraps his gloved hands around the bars with a smirk. "Mr. I Have No Alliance to You, actually came to save us. Took you long enough."

Vincent mutters a gruff sound of agreement and just shakes his head.

Yuffie darts past him with a beaming smile. "Hiya Red, Cid."

"And you brought the brat," Cid's eyes are full of amusement, as though this is the absolute highlight of his week. Damn well better be. If either of these two are still sane, I'd be surprised. Not that they were sane to begin with, but if the bruise below Cid's right eye is any indication, there was more than a little bit of interrogating involved. Looks like Reno's handiwork. Rude would have probably killed the guy.

"We could always leave you in there!" Yuffie remarks, faking indignation at being referred to as a brat of all things. He's just saying what I'm sure we're all thinking.

I locate the control panel on the wall quickly and bring up a list of codes. Making quick work of the passwords, I listen as the two cell doors glide open.

There is a swish of cloth as I hear Vincent lunge across the corridor between cells in pursuit of rapidly moving paws. Damn. Probably should have waited to free him.

Heavy paws slam into my side before I can put Rekka between myself and the crimson beast. The cold metal stairs break my fall as thick, strong jaws wrap around my throat, the teeth coming to a tense rest against the flesh.

"Red! Stop!" Yuffie screams. I dig my fingers deeper into the lion-like creature's thick crimson fur, feeling his hot breath against my skin. A lone golden eye is watching me, studying me, waiting for me to give him a reason to close his jaws completely and end this. I draw a shaky breath, unable to form the words to even try to explain.

"Let her go," Vincent commands, his golden claw-like hand closing overtop Red XIII's strong muzzle. "She's on our side."

At first, the lion-like beast seemingly ignores Vincent. After several seconds though, I feel those sharp teeth lift from the surface of my flesh and the weight pinning me down lessens considerably.

I take those precious few seconds to retrieve Rekka and put a few feet of distance between myself and the terrifying crimson cat-like beast standing with his ember-like tail raised in warning. That was way too close for comfort.

He looks at Vincent for an explanation and receives a stern, almost reprimanding look that says, 'we'll talk later.'

Cid is far less subtle about it though and studies me with a hint of curiosity. "So how'd you manage that one Vincent? Turks aren't exactly trustworthy by the best of standards."

"Perhaps you should ask her about it," he tells the blonde airman and walks past, eyes scanning the remaining cells. "_She's _the one who let you out of your cell."

"Never said I disapproved," Cid rubs the back of his neck in a nervous manner. "It's just not something you see everyday."

"Then I suggest you not look out any windows for a while."

Red gives Vincent a puzzled, or as puzzled as a creature of his stature can be, look. Obviously neither of these two know just what is up in the sky right now. I'm not surprised. This place is a little like a tomb. Dark and lacking any view of the outside world.

After a brief few seconds of surveying the prison, Vincent looks back at Cid. "We're missing three."

"Well don't look at me," Cid shrugs. "Tifa and Barret were never brought here. No one knows what happened to the kid."

Not what I want to hear right now. If they're not here, then there is only one place they can be, and if I'm right, we've got less than fifteen minutes to rescue them before Scarlet wins her little game.

I push past Cid and begin searching the far wall cells for Cait Sith. Of course it wouldn't be here.

"What are you looking for?" Vincent asks, which seems to surprise both Cid and Red XIII at the casualness between the two of us.

"A little black cat and the world's ugliest moogle," I tell him. "The sooner I find it, the sooner we prevent an execution."

"It's probably in storage," Red says. "They took our weapons a short time after we were imprisoned aboard the Highwind."

"They took _your _weapon," Cid snaps, frustrated over something regarding his ship. "Goddamn morons threw _my _spear overboard just to spite me!"

"Maybe if you didn't try to take control of the ship, they might not have done so."

"Those goddamn pussy pilots Shinra brought along can't fly worth shit. Put plenty of scratches on her trying to land her. I was just doing what a good Captain does!"

Okay. Note to self, never allow the ship to be mentioned again with Shinra in the same sentence. Way to go Red.

Storage. Of course. Should be fairly close by. Without waiting for them to react, I motion for Yuffie and Vincent to follow me in hopes that the other two will take the hint as well.

Storage is surprisingly quiet given the circumstances and it takes Vincent and me a little under thirty seconds to deal with the minor brigade that has been combing the corridors for us since we changed the proverbial maze. Rekka strikes the panel beside the door, effectively granting us access and shorting out half of the corridor along the way.

Cid looks at Yuffie a bit snidely, "Why can't you learn how to do that?"

"Shut up, Old Man," is Yuffie's answer as Cid dodges a half-hearted swing from her fist.

"Children, please," Red XIII sighs and pads closer for a better look.

Trust Scarlet to not be a very good housekeeper. Bits and pieces of everything from nuts, bolts and tools, to spare parts and various wires litter the shelves of the cluttered room. I make my way past a fallen tire and begin rifling through the pile of junk by the far wall.

"I don't suppose there is a small comb in that pile is there?" Red XIII inquires somewhat timidly and I notice Yuffie helping herself to what is probably the group's materia. Vincent's not bothering to stop her either.

"Comb?" I glance at the floor, noting a small bronze hair clip. "It's not a comb, but, maybe this is what you mean?"

"That will suffice," Red nods. "I use it as a weapon."

I wasn't going to even ask, but I nod in agreement with him.

I hand the small hair accessory to Vincent so that he can place it on the crimson beast and pry a dark brown cloth tarp from a rather out of place lump, revealing quite possibly the world's ugliest moogle and plush stuffed cat. Sheesh. Reeve, I knew this thing was ugly, but I'm surprised Barret didn't kill it earlier for giving him nightmares. Take a sewing class, bud.

I toss aside an ancient mop so that I can crawl behind the robotic cat, fishing Reeve's keycard from my blazer pocket and begin the tedious task of bringing it back online. For a moment, it buzzes as though going to allow me to control it via my PHS, but then falls silent. Damn. I'm going to need to raid the security room to uplink to a half decent computer for this one.

"Yuffie." She looks at me. "How good are you at acting?"

Red XIII scoffs at the question but says nothing at the glare Yuffie gives him in response.

"Pretty good. Why?"

"Think you can find enough items to play the part of a talented reporter for a little while?"

She pales at the thought, but I beat her to it before she can protest. "Don't worry, you're not going anywhere near the floor where Barret and Tifa are probably being held. I just need to know, can you do it?"

She gives me an uncertain nod, but doesn't tell me she can't. I point to Vincent. "Good. Give your shuriken to him."

"Wait, what-"

"Right now there are over two hundred men with guns looking for a person who is fairly well known for using one of those. They won't exactly think twice before they shoot if they see you with it. You're a reporter now. You don't get a weapon. Scarlet won't shoot the people who are going to make her famous on TV. Bad for publicity."

She grudgingly hands her weapon to Vincent, and I can tell she's not happy about it. Can't be helped though. Someone will need to make sure no one gets lost during the chaos. One problem solved.

"The Highwind." I look towards Cid next. "Any of your original crew still aboard by any chance?"

"Hell yeah they're still around. A little rusty though thanks to the lead jackass demoting them for his own team, but my crew doesn't die easily."

"Any chance they might follow their Captain in causing the most important mutiny in the history of Shinra?"

Cid arcs an eyebrow and slowly forms a cocky grin. "Steal the Highwind, eh?"

"We don't call it stealing," I tell him. "We're simply reallocating resources into the hands of their rightful owner."

"Where'd you find this one, Vincent? 'Cause I like the way she thinks."

"Three minutes ago, I recall a different opinion." Vincent finishes securing the tiny hair clip to Red XIII's mane and looks towards the doorway. Another round of infantrymen will be upon us soon.

"That was before she started speaking my language." Cid picks up the mop that fell against the floor and rests it over his shoulder with a cocky smirk. "What the hell are we doing standing around here waiting for? Let's go show these bastards who the hell is in charge around here."

Problem two solved. I look towards him and Red. "You'll need to take the northern side corridor pilot's walk. It shouldn't be very well guarded at this point and will put you in a good position to communicate with your crew. Take Red with you just in case."

Both nod in agreement.

"Wait," Yuffie protests. "I'm supposed to be the reporter, right? What am I supposed to do exactly?"

"It's too risky traveling in a big group right now," I tell her. "So, your job is going to be to go with Vincent, establish a safe spot between the airfield and these buildings and pretend to be covering a breaking news story until the others meet up with you. If you can wrangle someone to be your cameraman, even better. Just play the innocent bystander and make it work. Then rendezvous with Cid and his crew at the Highwind. All goes well, no one gets killed and you're home free for a while. Cid's group, go before the entire army realizes that they've got two more problems to deal with. Vincent's group will take a different route."

Cid nods and takes the lead with his mop, Red following at a quick trot. Vincent looks towards me as Yuffie begins fashioning her outfit from the assortment of stuff she has to work with.

"I take it you're not coming with us."

"I need to get to the security room and destroy our trail and then get this robot back online and in place before the actual execution." I shake my head and pick up the cloth tarp that had been covering Cait Sith. A little bit of work and this might suffice for a suitable suit for that hideous moogle. I locate an old hat for the black and white plush cat and set to work dressing the hideous robot up to something that could resemble a foreign correspondent.

What to do if Scarlet decides to take a closer look though? Hmmm. I begin rifling through the contents of a shelf, my fingers closing around a small canister that looks to have been confiscated from some portion of her own army at some point. Sleeping gas? This will have to do for now.

"You're preparing for something big," he says.

"It's a precaution," I tell him. "This is nothing compared to what I'd _like _to do to her right now."

Vincent looks at the pistol on my belt. He knows exactly what I mean and at this point, he probably wouldn't bother trying to stop me either. It there weren't people who still need to be freed from her talons at the moment, I'd go ahead and give her a proper greeting with Rekka instead.

"Be careful."

"I'll catch up later," is all I say in response.

He gives me a curt, understanding nod as I hurry past him and bolt for the metal stairwell at the end of the corridor. I have a bad feeling about this. It can't be helped though. Vincent and Yuffie can take care of themselves. I'll just have to trust those thoughts.

Three infantrymen succumb to Rekka and the fourth barely has enough time to react before he slumps to the floor in the small excuse for an elaborate 'security' room. One would think for it being the Achilles heel of Junon that someone would at least think to put something stronger than a meager handful of 'experienced' infantrymen here to guard it. I shove his body from the chair and look at the various monitors spread across the wall.

Good. The airfield seems to be the weak point right now. Cid and Red shouldn't have any problems staging a mutiny. One less thing to worry about. I look to the upper floors where the media is corralled, eagerly awaiting their turn to be seated. Looks like I'm a little earlier than I thought. Perfect.

I begin typing in the familiar security formalities, breaking down several walls on the floors that I don't need to watch right now. I grab the PHS from my belt and remove the small computer chip, quickly uploading the codes I swiped from Cait Sith's main hard drive in the storage room. The computer hums and I catch sight of a few infantrymen working their way around the floors above this one.

"Come on," I grumble at the computer, watching the screen flicker. For several seconds, nothing happens. Reeve, if you changed the uplink codes again, I swear I'm going to throw you down Condor's hill. I don't have time to rewrite them right now.

After three frustrating attempts, the link activates, presenting me with a hodgepodge of clumsy controls I have literally no idea what in the hell even do. I just wrote the program. Reeve configured it to his preferences. Absolutely fantastic.

Let's see…I access the inner files and quickly locate the controls, switching them to a pseudo mixture of manual and auto, hoping that at least I can input some sort of GPS guidance into that robotic brain or something. Best case scenario, I can at least get it to where the execution is being held. Looks like Rufus and Heidegger are heading to the second floor of the upper secured area.

My efforts are rewarded with motion as the clumsy monstrosity of a robot takes a few clunky steps. It's not the best, but it will have to due for now. I direct it towards a vacant corridor and aim for the first floor of the main building where the media corral is waiting. I set the controls to auto pilot for the moment and quickly access the main database of everyone who is supposed to be on the list of attendees.

Mr. S. Cith, from the Midgarian Post. Wasn't the most creative thing I've ever come up with, but it would be more than enough to fool whoever was in charge of the check in for reporters. I quickly add the name to the list and turn my attention back to the robot, which has managed to make it to the media hall, much to my surprise. Maybe this won't be so bad after all.

Just on time. Perfect. I thread Cait Sith into the line of reporters and watch as the infantryman responsible for checking everyone in casually reads off the names, not even bothering to check for IDs or anything. It doesn't take too long for Cait Sith to be ushered into a large conference room and seated closer to the front.

I shudder at the long mahogany desk meticulously keeping a set of a steel chairs at bay, clear of all paper. I'd seen this room only a few times before and each time, no one ever left alive. Tseng always told us that it was better to be killed by your fellow Turk than to ever walk into that room against your will in handcuffs. There are more ghosts trapped in those cold steel walls alone than in this entire building.

"_This story is going to win me the Platinum Quill, you know." _says an excited young man standing beside Cait Sith.

"_You can keep your Platinum Quill," _says an older gentleman as he gets out his notebook and flips it open, tapping his pen against a blank page several times. _"This one is going to allow me to retire finally." _

"_Better do it quickly then," _says yet another. _"'Cause once that thing in the sky falls, this story won't even matter." _

"_You're a killjoy, Modeoheim Manner." _

"_At least I'm read by more than a dinky little steam town. What was it? The Kalm Times?" _

"_Lay off my newspaper. I don't see Rocket Town Gazette here." _

"_Probably got shot down between here and Costa del Sol. Lot of that going on lately." _

"_Tell me about it. So," _the guy covering the story for the _Kalm Times_ nudges Cait Sith. _"What paper you from?" _

I begin typing, hoping I have this figured out.

"_Midgarian Post," _the words roll off of Cait's tongue, his hat and upturned collar of the makeshift suit preventing anyone from noticing that he's not exactly human. There is a low whistle from several of the older gentlemen in respect.

Before the younger reporter gets the chance to inquire about news taking tips, the doors slam open and in strides the wicked witch herself, red dress slinking around her bare legs like some sort of glorified hooker. She doesn't even bother to make eye contact as she walks past the gaggle of media who immediately erupt in a question shouting match to be the first to ask her a question and get an actual response.

Several cameras flash, photographers huddling closer to capture every moment as the Shinra International News Network gets into position.

Leaving Cait Sith to sit for a few minutes, I get to work on destroying our trail, turning off cameras and deleting data logs left and right. Everything from the gate to the prison, gone. Everything else, history. She'll know exactly who did this. Hell, I count on her knowing. No one said foxes left things in any particular order. They always leave a path of absolute destruction just to piss off the farmer who owns the coop.

Scarlet turns to face the media all high and mighty-like, surveying her kingdom and loving every second of it. She looks towards the doors that creep open at the beckon of her lackeys. It's sickening.

"_You goddamn sons of bitches aren't gonna get away with this!" _Barret roars as he is escorted through the doors, hands bound behind his back, by no less than four infantrymen who are having a rather difficult time with him. It's like a bull chocobo with him. You just don't _control _Barret.

Tifa follows, eyes narrowed and there is no doubt that if _her _hands weren't bound, she'd lay out quite a few of them with her fists. Unlike Barret though, she is quiet, dignified even.

An infantryman shoves her into line beside Barret and both stand before the butcher, their path of escape blocked by plenty of men with rifles.

"_Is everyone here?" _Scarlet asks with that snide, arrogant way about her. Seemingly satisfied, she looks towards the camera as if she has serious authority. You'd swear she was President or something. _"These are the ones who have brought this madness into the world." _

"_The hell are these people?" _Barret mutters under his breath.

"_Media," _Tifa whispers in response without looking at him. It's loud enough that Scarlet hears unfortunately, and her lip curls into a wry wicked smirk.

"_We will be broadcasting your miserable deaths live on national television." _

Scarlet would be a dead woman right now if looks could kill, ten times over. I navigate Cait Sith into position, toning down his accent slightly to a more normal sense. Time to give this media whore exactly what she wants.

"_Why a public execution in this day and age?" _the words roll off of Cait's tongue with a sense of natural professionalism and I can tell Scarlet is extremely impressed by the question as she walks closer to the coroner standing beside a large, iron door behind her.

"_With the chaos resulting from the Meteor reports, we desperately need to rally public support. It's better that we punish someone, anyone." _Her cold blue eyes fall upon Tifa, who returns the glare.

"_You make me sick." _

A hideous witch-like cackle escapes from Scarlet's mouth and it sends shudders down my spine. That should be my execution right now, not Barret and Tifa's.

Cloud, the word surfaces at the back of my mind. What happened to Cloud? He's not with either of them. Something's off about this.

"_They will never admit it, but people love this stuff," _she walks over to Tifa, the camera's following her every movement. _"We'll start with this girl." _

"_If you've gotta do it, do me first you cowards!" _Barret roars and is immediately restrained by the four exhausted infantrymen, beyond pissed. I can only hope Elmyra is not letting Marlene see any of this right now.

"_Make sure you get this," _Scarlet commands to the cameraman. _"Tearful goodbyes are always good for the ratings." _

"_I'll give you a tearful goodbye you goddamn witch!" _

"_Save your threats, Wallace. No one gives a damn."_

"_Why don't you come over here and say that!"_

Scarlet, amused by the spectacle, marches over to stand before Barret and reaches her talon-like hand forward, cupping his chin confidently. _"And just what are you going to do to me, Wallace? Threaten me to death? Go ahead. The world is your stage. Once I'm done with you, that darling little brat of yours will make for a great challenge. I've never executed a child before."_

"_You wouldn't dare," _Tifa spits darkly.

"_I think you know exactly what I am capable of doing." _Scarlet turns towards her and motions for her lackeys to escort Tifa to the gas chamber.

I glance at the monitor giving an oddly disturbing view of the inside of the chamber. God knows how many people have died on that chair.

Codes. What is the goddamn code for that thing. I begin rifling through the online database. Come on. Faster, you stupid computer. Don't screw with me today.

"_What are you doing?" _Tifa asks, terror in her voice.

"_This would be my special gas chamber reserved for the finest criminals." _Scarlet shoves her into the chair and the infantrymen secure her wrists in the clasps almost immediately. _"Take your time and enjoy a slow, painful death. It's a lot worse than it sounds."_

"_This isn't over, Scarlet!" _Tifa hisses through clenched teeth and struggles against the restraints. _"Someday someone's going to pay you back tenfold for what you've done. I hope to God they crush you to the point where you're a miserable, pathetic, weak-" _

Scarlet brings her hand across the young woman's face just for spite. _"Stuck up little bitch." _

Door, my inner watchdog tells me to focus. Worry about the door first. I scan through the codes, recognizing the familiar floor and mechanism and begin ripping through it as quickly as my fingers can type.

"_Well now, that's taken care of," _Scarlet wipes her hands together with a casual smirk. "_Let the show begin."_

The screen suddenly goes dark and the lights flash red. A blaring, shrieking alarm deafens the air.

"No, come on. Don't do this today." I frantically plead, struggling to force the code through, the lights flashing as the monitors flash off completely and then begin to come back on slowly. Damn it all to Hell. Come on. I can't afford this right now.

**"_EMERGENCY! EMERGENCY!" _**Go screw yourself Shinra alarm code. **_"WEAPON'S APPROACHING! ATTENTION ALL MILTARY PERSONEL: TO YOUR POSITIONS IMMEDIATELY!"_**

Shit. Of all days. The monitors quickly flicker back on under backup power, revealing absolute chaos in the execution conference room. Most of the media reports are fleeing for their lives, knocking over chairs in their mad scramble.

"_Get back here right now! Every single one of you!" _Scarlet seethes as several of her infantrymen join the fleeing journalists. _"Damn it!" _

Before she can follow to drag their sorry asses back, I quickly swing Cait Sith into her path and type the code for the fireworks to begin.

"_How does it feel now, Scarlet?"_

"_So you didn't run. How do I feel right-" _her eyes widen as she slumps to the ground in an unconscious heap, much to Barret's surprise.

Door, my inner watchdog once again snaps, Cissnei literally pushing Jessie out of the way to seize control of this nightmare of a worst case scenario. Can't afford to be AVALANCHE right now.

The door code flashes once and goes dead. Not happening. Tell me this is not happening. Not lockdown mode. Shit. I kick the consol out of frustration. Okay. Don't panic. Think this through. Can't override the code while in lockdown mode. It will permanently seal the door if I even try. And lockdown mode lasts longer than Tifa has. There's got to be another way. Has to be.

I turn back to the consol and take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart over the blare of the alarm. I can do this. I _have _to do this.

"_Sleeping gas?" _Barret asks in somewhat surprise.

Cait Sith quickly shakes off the tarp and casts the hat aside, making quick work of two of Scarlet's remaining men with a swift command of the moogle's thick fists. _"I'm here to help." _

Barret gives the robotic cat a look of distrust. _"Why you? Ain't you a part of Shinra?" _

"_Let's just say I'm against capital punishment." _More than you can ever know Barret._ "Now come on, we need to help Tifa." _

Barret, much to his heroic credit, rushes over to the sealed doorway the moment his arms are untied. The door remains sealed, despite his furious attempts to pry it loose. I hate to say it, but one man's not going to be able to dislodge that particular lock.

"_Barret!" _Tifa shrieks in terror. _"Help!" _

"_Shit," _he swears and kicks the door with a venomous glare towards Scarlet. Instead of killing her though, he looks towards Cait Sith and then to the door. _"Hang in there Tifa! We'll get you out." _

Something tells me that she is not happy with that option right about now.

**"_ATTENTION! ALL MILITARY PERSONAL TO THEIR POSTS! PREPARE TO ENGAGE TARGET!" _**

The floor bucks wildly as the entire building seemingly shifts. Damn. They're actually going to take aim at WEAPON? The walls vibrate wildly as the steel shields rise up from beneath the interlocking streets to shield the buildings like a rigid steel cocoon while the gunheads are being moved into position for a counter attack. Infantrymen bolt through the corridors to their positions, no doubt scared shitless by the whole fiasco. Real life or death combat never was their forte.

They should be scared. If WEAPON hits this place, it will peel through those layers of steel quicker than a sword to flesh.

Like a sword to flesh…Gives me an idea. I grab the PHS from my belt and frantically flip through the menus to the received calls. The unfamiliar number is like a godsend and I hit redial.

"Pick up your damn phone. Come on."

After several long seconds, it connects.

"_Hello?" _

"Don't ask questions, just do as I say, Yuffie." I begin skimming through the monitors, noting the infantrymen who have discovered the bodies of their fallen comrades. Shit. "Once you rendezvous with Barret get to the Highwind as soon as humanly possible. God willing that ship's got artillery power."

"_Okay, why though?" _

"Give the phone to Vincent, now!" I can hear the infantrymen approaching quickly and I grab Rekka in preparation for a standoff. Damn it. I'm going to be cornered here.

"_What's the situation?" _

"Worse case scenario," I tell him. "Meet up with Barret, get the Highwind, focus all artillery on the upper section of the main building, right above the Sister Ray. I don't care how you do it, but do it fast. Tifa is the one you need to rescue."

"_We'll do it," _he assures me.

"You're going to have to. I've got company." I flip the PHS closed as the first bullet burrows into the wall behind me. Rekka knocks the assailant to the floor quickly.

I look back towards the monitors where Barret seems to be beyond flustered by now.

"_Damn it. How we gonna get her out of there?" _

"_Trust me just this once. I have an idea." _I quickly guide Cait Sith towards the door at a hurried pace and lock him into autopilot so that he will hopefully find his way towards the airfield quickly. Barret's not going to like this, but we have to make that desperate gamble. Without hesitating, I quickly crash the entire system, wiping out all record of our existence here today.

Another infantrymen pushes through the doorway, rifle drawn. I snap a quick Blizzaga spell in his direction and flip the PHS open once more. Don't piss me off today, boys.

The line connects quickly.

"Reeve," I swing Rekka behind me and catch the infantryman before he can shoot. Without pausing, I kick the assault rifle aside and vault over his body for the doorway. "Take control of your robot from here on out! You're heading to the airstrip. Pretend you know what in the Hell is going on."

"_You're in Junon?" _

No, Reeve, I'm in Modeoheim. Where the hell do you _think _I am right now? "Yes, and I would appreciate it if you could get control of Cait Sith, get to the airfield, and not ask questions please!"

Another gunshot rattles the confined space as I slip into the hallway and pitch Rekka at the reinforcements following the first fallen group. That was close.

"_What's going on?" _

Right now, trying not to get shot. In a few moments, WEAPON.

"I'll tell you later. Right now. I'm kinda busy. Just get to the airfield with Cait Sith."

I hang up the phone and bolt down the corridor for the airfield.

The entire building shakes with a massive explosion that sends a shockwave through the steel and nearly throws me to the ground as the ground bucks wildly beneath my feet. Guns discharge as several infantrymen clamber into one another and topple back down the stairwell. I rest a hand against the wall for balance.

I knew the Sister Ray was one hell of a gun, but my god. Anything capable of causing that kind of potential damage to the city it's built within is just unreal. Feels like the whole city is off center and is going to slide into the sea.

The warnings blaring suddenly cease and for a moment, it is silent. I don't wait around though. Taking a swift right, I dart past several fallen infantrymen, emerging onto a small section below the airfield. Blinding crimson light seeps through the dust shaken loose from the rattling force of the giant gun, casting a low fog across the area.

**"_WARNING! WEAPON APPROACHING! SPEED 50 KNOTS!" _**

There is a brilliant flash from the horizon and the waves begin churning violently, almost to a boil. Infantrymen frantically scramble to level their weapons and the air erupts in a violent hailstorm of bullets and fireballs that crash against the rising sapphire fin growing closer, faster.

**"_WARNING! WEAPON APPROACHING! SPEED 75 KNOTS!" _**

They're not even hitting it. Son of a bitch. That thing looks pissed off. For a moment, I consider fleeing back into the brittle safety of the established building. Not that it's going to matter. Once that…thing reaches the area, nothing will stop it.

Come on, guys, I silently plead and run along the narrow excuse for a street despite the war zone. You need to get to Tifa in the next couple of seconds if you're even going to have a chance.

Cloud…for the first time since this whole fiasco went wrong, his name surfaces at the back of my mind. I don't even know where he is right now. For all I know he could be dead as well. The others didn't seem to know where he was either. I'll have to trust he can take care of himself for now, wherever he might be.

_Let them be on time_, I plead, not sure if anyone can hear my silent pleas as I take out another round of infantrymen. I can see the Highwind in the distance, still tethered where it was parked. But I can also see what appears to be Barret, Cait Sith, and Yuffie running along the main street not far from this location. They'll make it. They have to.

The rusty waves roll up against the lower portions of the city in a violent tsunami as the mighty beast rises out of the water, water crashing along its sleek shelled body. It stands directly level with the Sister Ray, his mouth agape and brilliant light shimmering from the deep recesses of its throat.

For a moment, the world freezes with the violent rush of wind that is drawn upwards. Several infantrymen have fled and I can't say I blame them right now. That's easily the smartest thing they've ever done.

A brilliant, blinding light tears across the sky and slams into the metal above the gun in a shower of molten metal that rains downwards. A little higher and it would have taken out the upper brass.

I'm not sure whether its sheer coincidence or if someone's helping us, but I'll take it.

This WEAPON opens its mouth again with a menacing growl, his mouth filling with that awful light once more. He's going to destroy this place. Not good.

The light flashes and surges forward at the same time the entire city rattles. Flames replace the lethal light and for a moment, it is like an awful monument crumbling. The mighty beasts falls forward, its spikes raking against the metal base of the gun. Its tail flashes once, as if to flip the giant equivalent of a middle finger at Shinra before sinking into the blood-red waters.

The entire ground drops out from beneath me, the very foundation reacting to the brutal, last stand of the fallen WEAPON. Infantrymen tumble into the waters as a segment of the street crumbles beneath them. I close my eyes, feeling the wind rush up around me.

A hand grabs me by the arm and pulls me closer to the wall. I glance up quickly, finding Vincent's soulless eyes looking at me.

In an instant, the two of us are running across the crumbling ground. Chunks of concrete rain down around us from the upper buildings. Something about it gives me the strength to run even faster, matching Vincent's pace, which makes him arc an eyebrow in surprise. He's obviously never had an entire city fall on him before.

It doesn't take us long to reach the airfield, which is littered with the bodies of infantrymen who were obviously surprised by the attack. I quickly glance towards the jagged hole in the metal above the Sister Ray, catching a brief glimpse of white scaling the side of it. Well I'll be damned.

A flash of blue and crimson isn't too far behind.

"Definitely some new tricks," Vincent says. "Impressive."

"Damn shame I can only take credit for a few of them."

He actually smirks for the first time since we've been traveling together. I've definitely exceeded his expectations today.

Now all they need to do is knock Scarlet off of her pedestal up there, which it looks as though Tifa is gearing up to do right now, and get her down from there and we can call this a victory. Vincent slows his pace and looks at me.

"Come with us," he says and looks towards the Highwind as it's engines turn over in preparation to take off.

I stop running. Go with them…It's the opportunity of a lifetime…

I look up at Vincent and shake my head, my decision made. No regrets. "This is where our paths part. Maybe someday they may cross again, but that day is not today."

For a few seconds, he watches me and I can tell that he's seriously weighing the answer I have given him.

"Veld should be proud of his Turks," he says and places a hand upon my shoulder. "It is a privilege to be afforded an opportunity to work alongside one of them. A privilege I look forward to again in the future."

He turns and begins walking towards the Highwind, his cape fluttering in the salty gunpowder-laden ocean air and it is not long before the mighty ship is airborne, scattering dust high into the air.

Scarlet's bitter shrieking can be heard from here and I turn just in time to watch Tifa land a sharp blow against the side of her face, knocking her onto her ass. I've been waiting a long time for someone to do that.

Tifa bolts for the end of the cannon as the infantryman accompanying Scarlet raises his rifle to fire.

Come on, I silently plead, watching as she stumbles once, but regains her footing quickly.

A mighty roar fills the air as the Highwind rises high into the air at the end of the Sister Ray and Barret calls out to her, swinging a thick rope downwards for her to grab onto. With a quick glance behind her, Tifa leaps.

The rope sways outward and for a few tense seconds, she grasps frantically for it before managing to halt her rapid decent into the churning ocean below. Barret gracefully hauls her to safety as the Highwind swings towards Costa del Sol.

"Take care of yourselves," I whisper, the echo of running boots over cracked pavement filling the air.

The Highwind is not even two miles from Junon before the shrieks flood the air, a rather pissed off looking Scarlet storming across the pilot's walk, the side of her face red and a pistol in hand. She's out for blood now.

"I want Wallace's head on my wall immediately. God damn him and his little entourage." Several infantrymen scatter from her path. "Don't just stand there! After them. I want that ship at the bottom of the sea immediately!"

The first infantryman struggles to salute and turns to do her bidding.

Rekka spins through the air in a brilliant flash of crimson and silver, knocking the infantryman off of his feet before banking a hard left off of a support pillar and sweeping backwards, grabbing the pistol and tearing it from Scarlet's outstretched hand.

I snatch Rekka from the air and casually rest it against my shoulder. "I'm afraid _I _can't let you do that."


	51. Flight Plan

**This chapter is short, like, mega short and I apologize in advance, but it was the best that I could do given my attention span these past two weeks. (Trust me, I will be working on updates soon here.) Until then, enjoy this shorter chapter and hopefully it's up to par. I don't really want to call it a filler chapter. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty One - Flight Plan**

It takes less than three seconds for the connection to be made.

There is surprise in those terrifying blue eyes as they glide from her still outstretched hand, to the pistol lying well out of reach and then to the crimson and silver shuriken clasped by my own as the haunting light cast from Meteor slides across its metallic surface.

I was always told that a skilled poker player can tell a winning hand the moment they pick up their cards and look at them. If the hand is good, they go all in. If it's bad, folding becomes the logical choice.

I don't have the winning hand, but my cards are better than hers are right now.

Those blue eyes scrutinize me from behind the loose, tangled bangs that have worked free from her hair clip during the exchange with Tifa, starting with the weapon in my hands and eventually to me as an individual. A light hint of a smirk tugs upon the corner of her lip, but does not materialize. Her shoulder twitches slightly, as if to make a mad grab for the pistol. I move Rekka a quarter of an inch and her attention is back on me again.

It's brief, almost nonexistent, but as her eyes flit to the pistol and back to me yet again, I can see something in them that I have not seen in a long time.

_Fear_.

Scarlet is afraid of me. Just the way she moves lacks the confidence she is known for. The brief clenching of her fist at her side. The brief twitch of her eyebrow in panicked thought. The sweat coating her forehead. She's not prepared for the idea of the fox cornering the farmer.

"You," she says after several seconds, a sense of foreboding darkness in the word. "I should have known."

"I'm surprised you didn't." My own eyes narrow as I look directly at her, hoping I look more confident than I actually am. "I left you plenty of clues to work with."

_Stall her just long enough for the Highwind to make a decent ten miles from here_, my inner watchdog tells me. Then I can retreat.

She laughs, a forced, ugly sound that grates my nerves and does little to demote her own confidence.

"How delightful." A hint of forced amusement creeps into her voice. "I may not need Wallace's head today after all. Executing you will be far more entertaining to behold."

She doesn't take her eyes from me as she motions for the remaining infantryman to no doubt summon the remaining forces in an effort to corner me and do her dirty work for her.

Rekka takes him down before he can take that first step.

"You want to fight me, Scarlet?" I snap. "Then you fight me yourself."

"Cocky little bitch, aren't you?" Her hand moves behind her slowly, eyes never leaving me. "Didn't your master ever tell you not to play with the big dogs?"

There is a deafening explosion as she draws a pistol from the holster she wears beneath the one segment of her dress and fires three rounds one right after the other.

Rekka shudders at the force, just barely deflecting the bullets in a hailstorm of sparks as I bolt towards her instead of retreating. Her eyes widen and she levels the pistol once more, hands trembling ever so slightly. Another round of bullets crashes against the steel and deflects harmlessly to the side.

I grab the pistol from my own holster and quickly level it, swinging Rekka up in anticipation of another round of bullets. Eyes boring directly into hers, I squeeze the trigger.

No regrets. No going back.

A shriek of pain is my reward as the pistol in her bleeding hand falls to the cement with the other. She takes a quick step backwards, her eyes revealing more than surprise. She doesn't seem so high and mighty now. I cast the shuriken aside and swing a leg against hers, my shoulder finding leverage against hers as I strike.

She lands hard on the concrete, her hip absorbing most of the force as I swing a leg out quickly, allowing the force to carry me away from her and back onto my feet in a crouching motion. I turn to face her as she struggles to regain her bearings, blood pooling around her hand and staining her tangled blonde hair.

"What's the matter, Scarlet?" I snipe. "Afraid?"

"I'll have your head on my wall yet! I'll make you wish you were never even born. And when I'm done with you, I'll have every single one of your little buddies executed as well," she snarls and tries to pull herself into a sitting position as the sound of heavy boots over cement catches my ears. I've gone and pissed her off good now.

"Like to see you try it," I brush the comment off casually, which proceeds to piss her off even worse than what I thought was possible. "You'll have to catch us first though."

A stiff, salt-laden ocean breeze stirs between the two of us. I kick her pistol out of range and grab my own, tucking it into its holster quickly. Without waiting to see if I indeed got my point across, I grab Rekka and flee across the airfield for the buildings. I'll kill her another day, when I'm ready to. Let her wonder when it will be for a while. Keep her guessing and on edge.

The infantrymen swarm the airfield quickly, guns drawn and waiting for the command to fire. Several slow their pace as their oh so fearless leader staggers onto unsteady feet, trembling, blood dripping from her hand, and looking more pissed off than WEAPON could ever hope to look.

"Kill her you fools!" The command is sharp and clear in the evening air and it doesn't take long for the air to erupt in blind gunfire. Bullets ping from the steel walls and draw sparks, but they're way off in their aim.

How to get out of here…My eyes rove the area between the walls and myself, finding a thin, corroded pipe-like railing to my left. Seizing the opportunity, I swing Rekka over my shoulder and grip the railing. A bullet flies past and strikes the wall with a reverberating echoing sound as I swing my body over it and plummet a good ten feet.

The steel grating above the churning waters rattles as I land upon it and bolt for the maintenance stairwell. The makeshift catwalk trembles with the regular going ons of the mighty city around it being drawn back into normal routine. The infantrymen flood the upper portions around the railing, looking down at the churning waves and no doubt wondering where in the hell I am. None of them know this little trick.

I make quick work of the security panel and enter into the darkness. It takes less than ten minutes to reach the lower levels of Junon and a few more stairwells will carry me back to the beach and to safer ground.

The echo of confident footfalls deafen the tight corridor behind me. They're familiar. A stride I've heard plenty of times before.

"Nei?" Reno's eyes are wide with surprise as I slow my pace and turn to look at him. "Don't tell me. _You're_-"

"I'm kind of busy right now, Reno." I attempt to push past him, but he stops me by grabbing my wrist and turning me to face him once again.

"What are you doing here? The entire military is-don't tell me, _you're _the one they're after?"

"Two sides to ever story, Reno," I remind him. "Mine's a lot better than Scarlet's is."

He shakes his head and allows a brief hint of a smirk.

"Come with me," he begins walking down the corridor. "We'll handle this _our _way."

Without needing to be told twice, I follow him.


	52. Neutral Ground

**This chapter isn't quite as epic as the last few chapters were unfortunately and it's super short. It's more of a dialogue heavy filler chapter (because I needed one for the rest of the fic to work) until I can get time to write something better that comes after this. Hopefully, you will enjoy this short chapter anyway. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty Two - Neutral Ground**

The underground hanger is a lot colder than I remember it ever being. I'm not one to complain though. This particular hanger offers a well-equipped shield against the outside world where nothing short of absolute chaos is taking place thanks to the events of the day.

Reno strides across the cement floor as though what's going on outside is just your typical day. His footsteps are casual and not at all worried. Then again, he doesn't have much to worry about. This hanger falls under Turk territory and unless they want to try their luck at investigating Reno's self professed 'lair,' they'd best have their life insurance paid up because they'd be cashing in on every penny of it.

"So, you wanna tell me what you're doing in Junon yo? Or am I gonna have to guess for myself?" he states in a casual tone that tells me I'm safe for the time being. That's the nice thing about Reno, he forgives a lot quicker than he lets on.

"Stuff," I tell him and follow. Not that he doesn't already know. I just don't feel like telling him much of anything.

"You don't need to look over your shoulder like that," he assures me. "I'm not going to turn you in yo."

"I owe you one."

He gives a low whistle and turns to face me with that trademark smirk of his. "Never thought I'd get you to owe me a favor. It's snowing in Hades right now by the way."

"Very funny. You do realize that if you're caught with me, you'll be in the same boat right?" I didn't want to even picture Reno caught in the same crosshairs I've been toying with for far too long now.

"And just who says I'll get caught?"

"No one, it's just-"

"You worry way too much, 'Nei."

"You don't worry enough," I tell him. "I didn't just kick the hornet's nest this time, Reno. I destroyed it."

"Hornets aren't the brightest creatures on the planet."

"No, but they can be annoying, especially the ones that are after me right now."

"Meh, they'll get bored in a bit and then pitter back to their queen."

"You're thinking about bees, Reno."

"Bees, hornets, same difference. What I want to know is what you're doing in Junon right now, not that I don't have a theory yo, but I want your story instead of that witch's."

It was no secret that Reno's level of tolerance towards Scarlet was only slightly more than my own and I'm fairly certain that had our roles been switched, he would have done worse to her than what I did.

"I was preventing a couple of senseless murders."

Reno raises an eyebrow in surprise. "AVALANCHE?"

I nod to acknowledge his words.

"'Nei, don't tell me, you're on _their _side now?" His words are nothing short of defeated and caught up in frustration and disbelief. He should really know better by now.

"No," I assure him before he can jump to too many conclusions. "I'm not part of AVALANCHE, at least not anymore."

"You broke into a _military _establishment to set them free yo. That doesn't exactly-"

"Don't you think I don't know that Reno?" I snap, the exhaustion of the day finally settling in. "I am fully aware of what I did today. Hell, they even offered to take me with them, Reno. I could have gotten out of this hellhole of a city just like that."

"Wait, you could have joined up with them?" There is disbelief in his eyes over the prospect of me working with the supposed 'enemy.'

"I turned them down," I tell him softly. "AVALANCHE is not the place for me."

He weighs the words in silent and retrieves a worn clipboard from a small table beside a large Blackhawk helicopter.

"So you're coming back to the Turks then?" His words are hopeful, if even for a brief second.

"Reno, you and I both know that can never happen. I'm a wanted criminal. There's no way things can go back to the way they were. I'm walking an impossible fence right now, but I'm not your enemy, nor am I a very good ally."

"As long as I'm not up against you again, I'll respect whichever side you want to be on," he says, and I can tell he's disappointed with my lack of choosing the side he'd prefer me to be on. I couldn't blame him though. Hell, _I'm _disappointed by the situation I've ended up in.

For several minutes, there is a comfortable silence between the two of us and I can almost see those wheels in his mind working over something or rather. Finally, he looks up from his clipboard with a sly smirk. "So, where are you going from here?"

"Dunno yet," I tell him. Pending my chocobo wasn't eaten by WEAPON, I'd like to go back to Kalm. Doesn't look like that will be happening anytime soon though.

"Well, with all of this AVALANCHE stuff going on, it's only a matter of time before the orders come across my desk to 'pursue' them to the full extent of my ability. Boss probably won't like it too much if you got caught in the net by us of all people."

Wait, back up a few steps. Tseng knows about this already? Then that means he's alive.

"You mean, he's alive?" I just have to ask. It's been far too long since I heard anything about him.

"Heck yeah, he's alive yo. You really think the boss man would go down just like that? Sheesh, you really have been out of the loop."

"I've been busy, Reno."

"You could have at least called. I do answer my phone from time to time."

"Last time I talked to you, you told me to get the hell out of Midgar. I didn't exactly have too much time to make phone calls."

"It's alright," he says. "Hell, I never call."

Yeah, I remember a mission a while back when Tseng was absolutely furious that Reno didn't call. We thought he was dead for days back then. Fortunately, he was okay.

"So, are you going to turn me in, or what?"

"Nope," he says and looks up from the clipboard again and at me. "Turk code of honor you know. We don't turn in our own."

"So I'm still a Turk now?" I cannot help but chide him a little bit, even though he knows I'm not picking sides per se.

"'Nei, you'll always be one of us. You're part of the family. You know it, I know it. No sense kicking you out just because you're in a 'little bit' of trouble right now."

A little bit of trouble…someone needs to define that for Reno someday. Still though, it feels good to be back in the presence of 'friends' for the time being. At least here, Scarlet can't really get to me. Not that I'm not ready for her by any means. I could have done worse to her back there. I just didn't feel the time was right yet. Let her worry for a little while. Let her learn to fear me.

"I'm heading out to Mideel here shortly. Rumor has it our infantryman may possibly have washed ashore somewhere in that region. Not exactly sure how, of even if he's still alive or not yo, but it is worth a look." He points to the Blackhawk helicopter behind him. "You want in on this?"

For a moment, I mentally shudder at the thought of flying in a helicopter again. I can remember everything from the crash still and the very thought is just…I'm not ready for that.

_Reno's flying it_, my inner watchdog reminds me. Reno is the best pilot Shinra has and second only to Cid Highwind himself. I mull the possibilities over in my mind and I can tell Reno knows exactly what I am thinking.

"It won't be shot down, yo, if that's what you're worried about," he assures me and places the clipboard onto to the leather seat. "I won't let anyone take us down."

"But, Reno, it's just that-"

"Don't worry about it, 'Nei. You gotta get back on the chocobo though. Junon's crawling with morons right now. You know it, I know it. Best place for us to go is Mideel right now. Don't worry, you won't get caught."

I take another look at the helicopter and try to push the terrifying thoughts to the back of my mind. Reno is a careful pilot. We'll be okay. With a stern nod, I walk towards it and climb into the passenger's seat.

"Glad to have you aboard."

"Just like old times."


	53. Between Friends

**Sorry about the delay folks. I haven't been feeling very Muse-like lately (blame the double shifts at work and a severe lack of chocolate) so this is late as usual. It's sort of a filler dialogue chapter for now, but a lot happens in the upcoming chapters, so please be patient with me. That said, have a wonderful, safe Thanksgiving and enjoy. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty Three - Between Friends**

"I have to tell you, 'Nei, I knew you were dangerous, but I never thought _this _dangerous yo."

"I did what I had to do," I tell him, watching the rusty waters churning beneath us as the bird glides through the air overtop them under Reno's confident command.

"But still, yo. You took down a military establishment. That's just-"

"I had help."

"Don't try to be so modest. The 'Nei I know doesn't do things half-ass. Nice touch with knocking Scarlet on her-"

"Reno, could we talk about something else, please? I'm really not in the mood for this today."

"Alright, sheesh. Just thought I'd give credit where credit is due yo. It's been a while since we've talked."

"Indeed it has been. Far too long."

"So you had a chance to join AVALANCHE," he says, guiding the bird through the haunting light of Meteor above us. "And you turned it down."

"Like I said," I tell him. "My place isn't in AVALANCHE anymore."

"You don't mean that," he says with a sad glint in his eyes. He's changed since we last spoke. He seems almost defeated in a way. "You could have gone, you know. No one would have said anything. We wouldn't have come after you."

"Reno, listen to me. I'm not part of AVALANCHE anymore." My words are confident, if not a little offended. "Those days are behind me now."

"But what if they weren't?" he asks, keeping his eyes focused upon the endless horizon. He tends to do that when he doesn't really want me to answer. He's afraid of what it might be. "I mean, didn't you even think about going?"

"Reno, trust me, I thought about it," I assure him, remembering Vincent's offer. "I made my choice though and I don't regret it. Keep pressing forward. Never look back."

"Spoken like a real Turk," he says, a hint of a smirk tugging at his lips. "Pity you're not coming back to us. We could use the extra help."

"You know I can't."

"Sure you could. You're already going rogue as it is. Might as well earn a paycheck while you're doing it. Gaia knows those pencil pushing desk jockeys don't check the pay roster. Just ask Reeve."

"I can't take that chance."

The helicopter purrs along through a section of turbulence and I grip the edge of the seat at the sudden motion. It does not go unnoticed to Reno.

"Still not over it yo?"

"It's been a while since I've flown…"

"Well, we aren't getting shot down today if that's got your worried. I'd never let that happen with you aboard. You can trust me."

"Thanks, Reno. That makes me feel better." It doesn't, but I don't let him know that outright, though I'm sure he already knows. You can't hide much of anything from a Turk. We're professional people readers.

"Hard to imagine this is all real yo." He points to Meteor hanging in the sky above us. It mocks us, molten rind churning through the clouds. "They're saying a week, maybe a little longer if we get lucky."

I watch Meteor throwing its light across the rust colored ocean. Black Materia. I never could have imagined something so simple could bring us to this moment. It's laughing at us, taunting us with its presence. It's watching and waiting to see what our last efforts of survival will be, though we know it to be futile. Once it breaks through the atmosphere, it will all be over.

"They're gonna try to fight it, yo. Rumor has it they're bringing in the big gun for it."

"The Sister Ray?"

"Not too sure if it will work or not, but Shinra got caught with his pants down on this one and needs to put up or shut up now. With these goddamn WEAPONS flying around you can't get anything done."

"How does he plan on destroying it?" I look at him.

"Ever hear of Huge Materia?" he asks and adjusts altitude once more.

Huge Materia. I've heard bits and pieces. I never had the chance to delve deeper into it though.

"A while ago," I tell him. "I'd be lying if I told you I know what it is though."

"That makes two of us then. Rumor has it that it is a by-product of the reactor cores or something. All I really know about it is that Scarlet wants every piece she can get her paws on."

"I take it you're helping with the search."

"Just another job," he says and looks at me. "We've got some leads, but not much solid enough to investigate. That's not _my _department."

No, I sigh. It _used _to be mine. Maybe it is a good thing I'm no longer a Turk. Scarlet would have me chasing phantoms more than ever. Holy knows what that woman wants with Huge Materia of all things. I have some theories, none of them pleasant.

"Maybe that's for the best though, yo. This stuff is rumored to be more powerful than the reactor cores it comes from. Wouldn't want that power in the hands of someone like her," he averts his eyes back to the horizon. "You think AVALANCHE would have use for it by any chance?"

I raise an eyebrow at the words. A quick look to his face tells me he's serious.

"That depends, do you think they can be trusted?"

"Do you?"

For a moment, there is silence between us and I cannot help but think about Vincent of all people. He trusted me, despite knowing what I was. He was a Turk at one point. He knew of Veld. The concept of the Huge Materia being in such capable hands is appealing.

"I have to," I finally respond, the words heavy yet confident. "They're all that stand between us and Meteor now."

Reno reaches into the pocket of his blazer and withdraws a small slip of paper. With an impish smirk, he presses it into my hand. "Good thing I'm currently riding with one of their finest members then. Wouldn't want _anyone _to get the upper hand yo."

I unfold the piece of paper, several locations listed upon it. Corel, Fort Condor, and several others, all containing the locations of potential Huge Materia. I give Reno a look.

"You're serious?"

"Serious as a loose chocobo in a greens shop."

"But, Reno, this is-"

"You said it yourself. They're all that stands between us and Meteor. Tseng wouldn't have it any other way."

I fold the piece of paper in half once more and tuck it into my pocket.

"How is he doing?" I ask, feeling the tension between us melting away in favor of something less awkward.

"He's good. Turns out our dear phantom psycho didn't do as much damage as we thought he did. He got lucky."

"Definitely."

"He worries about you, you know. Both he and Reeve. This whole AVALANCHE thing has him constantly trying to keep up with things. He's on the mend though, still as straight-laced as usual."

"That's good to hear," I whisper, for once, thankful that Tseng is going to be okay. He's tough, like all of us Turks are. We're only as strong as our lead watchdog.

"He's been wondering what trouble you've been getting into. Never thought you'd end up in Junon, especially not going toe to toe with the lead witch of Weapons Research."

"I had some unfinished business."

"Unfinished, eh? I like the sound of that. Tseng will too when I tell him."

"Just don't take things out of proportion, Reno. I don't have time for lectures at the moment."

"What are you going to do then? I mean, you're sitting in _my _helicopter after all."

"Like I said, I have some unfinished business to attend to yet."

"That makes two of us then. Mideel?"

"Do I even need to answer that?"


	54. Healing Properties

**I want to start by thanking my good friend Ku for her help with this chapter and section of the fic in general. Without her epic Reno-muse and some time spent listening to me complain and whine greatly about Mideel, as well as endless encouragement, this chapter never would have been written. That said, I hope you all enjoy this chapter and I wish you all a Merry Christmas and joyous holiday season. I'm hoping to be back in the new year with far better updates more frequently. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty Four - Healing Properties**

Nothing but a god-awful tropical mess. That is exactly how one could describe the infamous city of Mideel.

Calling it a city is giving it credit. In all actuality, it is a shanty hot springs town consisting of five to six shack-like buildings that got too close to the Lifestream at one point. The streets are a crude mixture of gravel, sand, and dead foliage from the endless forest of tropical plants surrounding it, trampled down by those who choose to travel to this region for its supposed 'healing' abilities.

I don't see what they see in this place though. It looks a little like something one would find under the plates of Midgar. A crude wooden fence borders the street as we walk towards the makeshift bridge connecting two of the shacks above us. Birds screech from somewhere in the forest, as if scolding us for being here. Reminds me of Gongaga in a way, only this place is much hotter and not half as tolerable.

_Think of Cloud_, my inner watchdog reminds me, the shadow of the bridge creeping around us and offering some shelter from the light of Meteor. There are very few places one could wash ashore in the region, pending he _did _wash ashore. For all I know, he could be dead, lying on the rocks at the bottom of Northern Crater.

_He's not dead_, I try to tell myself. He's too stubborn to die. He wouldn't give up without a fight. I just have to find a way to make myself believe those words. Easier said than done.

"Sheesh, what a dump," Reno says as he strides alongside me. "People actually pay to travel to this place too."

"It has healing properties, so I'm told."

"Whatever you say. Looks like it's in need of some 'healing' itself. Can't tell an outhouse from a whorehouse here."

"Like you'd know the difference."

"Ouch, that one stung, babe."

"You asked for it. And don't call me babe."

"Still as sharp as ever I see."

"Someone needs to be."

"Wouldn't have it any other way." I catch a brief hint of a smile tugging at his lips as he surveys his surroundings.

Several people walk the street, seemingly oblivious to our presence. I can't say I'm not thankful for that. The fewer questioning looks at this point, the better. Not that either of us are dressed for the region or anything. I doubt they see many Turks in this area of the world.

_Find Cloud. _I study the few buildings, watching as a little white chocobo hobbles out of the closest one and begins squawking in our direction. The woman in the dwelling shoos the little bird back inside quickly, none the wiser. Reno snickers at the display.

"You really think you'll find him here?"

"He has to be," I tell him and take the lead.

"Just saying, hypothetically, he's not. Then what?"

"He will be." It is more for my benefit than his as I set my eyes upon the street before us and continue walking. "I just know it."

Reno's gaze softens for a brief moment and he moves to catch up to me, the chocobo warking at us from the open doorway like a well trained dog. It doesn't take us long to reach the small excuse for a medical clinic tucked at the far end of the town.

"You sure you wanna do this, 'Nei?" Reno asks, placing a hand upon the closed wooden door and momentarily blocking my path. "What if he's, you know-"

"I can handle this, Reno," I assure him and grasp the handle of the door. He's unconvinced, quiet as the door swings open with a soft creak.

The dwelling smells of rotting foliage and rubbing alcohol. Water drips into a steel basin-like sink, a bottle of cotton swabs balanced against the spigot. It's dark, the only visible light from a small series of lights situated atop small wooden nightstands. A white curtain is drawn around what appears to be a bed in the second room. The sound of footsteps over the warped wooden floor reach my ears.

He's an older gentleman, graying mustache covering most of his face. He looks up over the edge of his clipboard, jotting something down.

"Can I help you?"

"Yes," For a moment, I hesitate, something warning me that I'm not going to like the answer to my question. Reno gives me a curt nod. He's got my back. He won't let me do this alone. "I'm looking for someone."

"Who isn't?" he says and looks back at his clipboard as though I'm a mere flea in his path.

Handle it like a Turk, my inner watchdog reminds me. No time for emotions today. I need to find Cloud. The piece of paper crunches in my pocket, reminding me of the burden I have the opportunity of laying upon AVALANCHE.

"His name's Cloud Strife," I tell him. "He might have washed ashore in this region recently."

The doctor looks up from his clipboard briefly, meeting my eyes. I make him blink first.

"You mean the fellow in that bed over there?" he asks, pointing to the first bed where a brown-haired nurse is taking someone's vitals. "Should have known he was with Shinra."

"He's not," I assure him.

"Turks in this region almost a week to the day someone like him washes ashore, highly unlikely this is a casual visit. Either take him or leave him as an organ donor. I'm not running a charity here."

"You won't have to," Reno says, taking a step forward and placing a hand upon my shoulder. "His care will be paid in full, in advance if you prefer."

For a moment, the doctor seems unconvinced, but Reno's stern glare intimidates him and he takes a step backwards. He gestures to the nurse. "These people seem to know who he is."

"So he's here then?" Reno asks, as though not believing it himself.

"Blond fellow, looks like a soldier," The doctor nods. "Worst case of Mako Poisoning I've ever seen. He's in there."

He steps aside, revealing the curtain surrounding a bed. For a moment, it is quiet, only the sound of the dripping water in the sink permeating the air. Reno squeezes my shoulder and I step closer.

Oh Cloud, what have you gotten yourself into. I draw back the thin curtain, revealing the ashen young man lying atop the bed, his blond hair dirty and slick with cold sweat, covering his closed eyes. There is only the raspy sound of his breathing to match the weak rise and fall of his chest to tell me that he's still alive.

I draw a sharp breath, fingers tracing over his outstretched hand. His flesh is cold, like stone. This is worse than what he had back in Sector Seven. Far worse. I've never seen a man in such terrible shape.

"He's likely to die," the doctor says, not even looking up from his clipboard. "I've never seen anyone come out of the late stages before."

"How long," it is not a question and I struggle to keep from showing emotion over it. He's strong, I remind myself. He's beaten it once before. He can do it again.

Why don't I believe those words.

_Cloud_, I silently will him to move, react in some way, any way to the touch of my fingers against his hand. Please wake up. Don't do this to me. Not again.

Death walks close by. I can feel his presence lingering in the air around Cloud, waiting. This is different from before.

"He's gone already, maybe a couple of days at the most before his body catches up to his mind," the doctor says, still writing. The nurse gives me a sympathetic look as I close my eyes, unable to look at him much longer. It's not my place to be here with him. I-I can't do this. I need to leave, now.

Reno looks down at me for a brief moment, a silent signal to leave. For once I am thankful as my fingers draw away from Cloud's cold hand and I turn my back to him. It feels as though I'm betraying him in some way. As though he is little more than a corpse waiting to be buried. As though he is already dead.

"Do what you can for him, until the end, please," I tell the doctor as I walk past, daring not to look behind me. The nurse nods in understanding.

""Nei, you sure you're okay?"

The door closes behind us with a loud click, sealing Cloud behind it.

"I thought I was, Reno," I wipe my the back of my hand across my eyes. It comes away damp and I look to the ground. "I thought I could face this."

"It's okay to cry, 'Nei," Reno places a hand upon my shoulder, drawing me closer. He smells of stale fish and whisky, but I don't draw away. I feel safe with him, as though there is no Meteor in the sky mocking us. As though Cloud is nowhere near us. As though there is no AVALANCHE, no Shinra, nothing.

As though things are _okay_.

"It's not fair," I whisper, closing my eyes and ignoring the looks of the villagers pretending not to look at us. "If only I'd have been faster that day."

"You can't keep beating yourself up over this," Reno says, his voice soft and understanding. "There was no way you could have prevented it. They'd have killed anyone who got in the way. You know that."

"If I hadn't let them go," I hiss, tears scalding as they break free despite my futile efforts to stop them. "If only I hadn't let them go. It's my fault, Reno. All of this is my fault."

"No it isn't," His emerald eyes soften. He draws me closer to his chest. "You couldn't have known this would happen."

"If I had a second chance, I'd never have let them go that night. I'd have done my damn job right the first time. I never would have let him go."

"You don't mean that," he says, calling my bluff. Damn Turk instincts. "You and I both know that nothing would have changed. You did what you thought was right, 'Nei, don't ever let anyone tell you otherwise."

"But it's true, Reno. If I hadn't-"

"It wouldn't have changed anything," he says, his soft look betraying his confidence. "Fair wouldn't have gotten away from Shinra. They would have probably sent him back to Hojo first thing. No one escapes from Shinra, you know that, 'Nei. What you did bought them time."

"I wish I could believe that, Reno. You know I wish I could."

"Well, _I _believe it," he says. "What to you say we find a place to stay for the night? Reeve's probably having a minor coronary over Junon by now and I need to make my report to the boss man."

I walk beside him, giving him a look of mild surprise. Must be a cold day in Hell if Reno's reporting in. "You're actually going to report in this time?"

"Hell no, but its nice to see you smile for a change."


	55. Stalking Ground

**New Year, new Muse. (Well, not quite new, more like refurbished.) I'm finally back with some time to dedicate to the fic. Once again, I want to thank everyone for reading and the encouraging reviews, PMs, and readership. It may not seem like it, but that means a lot to me personally. Thank you. That said, it's time to shake things up a little bit in the fic and go boldly in a direction I never thought I would go in. I'm not sure how it will turn out, or even if it is a good idea, but hopefully you will enjoy it. : ) **

**Chapter Fifty Five - Stalking Ground **

The phone call comes several hours after Reno manages to charm one of the locals into granting us a place to stay for the night. It's not a very large room, barely big enough for the two of us to coexist in somewhat peace without tripping over one another, but it will have to do for the night, lest we want to try to sleep in the helicopter-a situation neither one of us really want to attempt given the current happenings of the day. We're both too tired to walk the whole way back to it.

"_Have you completely lost your mind?" _Reeve's voice nearly deafens me as the line connects. _"Scarlet could have killed you!" _

"She didn't," I say, watching the little white chocobo pitter after its master from the window. Reminds me of a well trained dog in a way. Lucky bird.

"_That's not the point," _Reeve hisses, seething now. Reno looks up from his own PHS, no doubt in the process of texting Rude or something. _"Do you have even a lick of common sense in that brain of yours?" _

"Of course I do," I tell him, brushing him off and not in the mood to really fight with him tonight. I've got bigger problems to worry about than Junon right now.

"_Then would you enlighten me as to what you were thinking when you decided to invade Junon the way you did? I thought you were smarter than-"_

"It's exactly as it is, Reeve."

Reno looks up and rolls his eyes as though Reeve is behaving more like a displeased wannabe father figure than the pencil pushing desk jockey turned self-proclaimed hero he actually is.

"_I don't think you're grasping the seriousness of the situation. You invaded Junon-" _

"So? Someone had to. You knew what I was doing."

"_That's not the point!" _

"It's exactly the point," I tell him and look away from the window. Reno is trying hard not to laugh and I give him a look. This is serious.

"_Where are you now?" _

"Nowhere near Junon if you must know."

"_Okay, fine, don't tell me," _Reeve sighs, trying his best to sound as though he has some authority over the situation. _"Just, tell me you're still in the region." _

"Negative on that."

He curses under his breath, which surprises me. Reeve doesn't seem the type to cuss and swear.

"_You're making a very fragile situation even more difficult, Cissnei." _

"You're starting to sound like Tseng."

"_Where are you?" _

"That's none of your concern."

"_It damn well is. You picked a hell of a time to do this. Tell me where you are, now." _

"Mideel."

"_You're kidding, right?" _

"No, I'm serious."

"_How in the hell did you manage to get to Mideel?" _

"Reno," I watch my comrade look up with that grin of his at the word. Reeve's probably about to burst a blood vessel by now if his heavy breathing is any indication. Funny, I sort of imagine him driving the point of his protractor into the top of his desk in violent, nonthreatening fury at best.

"_You're with Reno?" _

"Yes," I say. Reno makes a motion with his hands, mocking Reeve. I try not to laugh at the seriousness of the situation.

"_Do you realize what could happen if either one of you get caught?" _

"I have some theories."

"_You're not taking me seriously. Scarlet wants blood, your blood. She won't rest until she gets it." _

"And what do you suggest I do, Reeve? It's not as though I had much of a choice."

"_You shouldn't have provoked her." _

"She would have gone after AVALANCHE."

"_That's not your problem." _

"It damn well is my problem," I hiss, watching as Reno arches an eyebrow at the slight raise in my voice. "I needed to do something."

"_You did more than enough. I thought you were going to get in, get out, no issues. And what do you do, cause a bloody war!"_

Yep, he's pissed.

"Look, in all fairness, I did exactly what I said I was going to do. You knew where I was going."

"_Had I known you were going to cause this kind of trouble, I never would have agreed to let you go." _

"Reeve, listen to me. I did what I-"

"Hey, Reeve," Reno says, pretending to shout from afar. "Better watch your blood pressure yo. You're not as young as you used to be."

"_Would you kindly tell him to shut up? I'm not in the mood to deal with him today." _

"Let me ask you a question first. Why are you calling?"

"_It's about your dealings in Midgar."_

My dealings in Midgar? That can't be good.

I sit a little straighter at the words. "What about them?"

"_Scarlet's on the prowl and much as I hate to say this, she's after anything and everything she can get her claws into to get back at AVALANCHE, you and Wallace especially. The orders came across Heidegger's desk this afternoon. She's planning on scouring Kalm until she gets what she wants."_

"Marlene and Elmyra…"

"_You need to get to them before she does. I'll do what I can to stall her, but it won't buy you much time._"

"I'll get there, Reeve," I assure him. "I won't let her win this round."

"_See to it that you do. And, Cissnei," _he pauses. "_Please_ _be careful." _

The line goes dead and I flip the PHS closed.

Reno crosses his arms across his chest, watching me with that look of his. "So what did Reeve want?"

"The usual," I say and tuck the phone into my pocket. "Checking up on me."

"Fine, I won't ask then." He turns his back to me. "Might as well get some sleep, you look tired."

"Yeah, I suppose so."

Sleep doesn't come easy unfortunately. For several long hours, I lie awake, staring at the rotting beams holding up the excuse for a roof while Reno dozes on a pair of fruit crates arranged to form a bed. He's snoring, just like old times.

I have to get back to Kalm, before Scarlet does, somehow. I sit up, casting the pathetic excuse for a blanket aside. I hate nights like this. Grabbing Rekka, I chance a glance at Reno. He's out cold. Good. The fewer obstacles in my way right now, the better. Keeping quiet, I ease the door open and step into the stairwell.

It doesn't take me long to escape from the house and into the sticky, stagnant air blanketing the vacant streets. I swing Rekka over my shoulder and begin walking. Reno's going to hate me in the morning for this, but it can't be helped. I need to get to Kalm and I need to get there fast.

A twig snaps to my left and every muscle tenses.

I grasp Rekka in alarm. Keeping my weapon in view, I continue walking in the direction of the chopper. Another twig snaps, this time intentional. I turn towards the sound, the moonlight glinting from the sharp points of Rekka.

"Who's there?" I ask, my voice stiff with cold confidence.

"A friend," comes the curt, almost stoic words. I lower the shuriken, keeping it between myself and the man standing in the shadows.

"Vincent," it is not a question, merely a word and I try to hide my surprise over crossing paths with him again. I didn't think it would be this soon. Make that never.

"Unfinished business?" His voice is stiff, reminiscent of a former Turk, yet not unfriendly. That is, if one can dare to call a man like Vincent friendly by any means. I keep a guarded sense about me as I turn to answer him.

"You could say that," I tell him.

His eyes glint in the darkness, as if amused by something. "You got here quick."

"I didn't have much choice."

"I assume there are other Turks around then."

"Just one," I assure him. "He won't bother you though."

Vincent nods, a subtle look that almost goes unnoticed in the darkness. "You're going somewhere."

"Kalm," I tell him.

"You're out of your way."

"I am aware."

He shifts his weight in a casual manner. "Someone you're protecting?"

"Yes."

"What a coincidence, we're heading to Midgar."

"There is no such thing as 'coincidence.'"

"Indeed there is not," he says. "AVALANCHE could use someone like you."

"You knew my alliance was strictly a one-time deal." Been there, done that already. I don't say anything though, choosing instead to move closer to the fence running the length of the road.

Vincent makes a move to follow me, his cape swishing in the stagnant air. "I see."

"Look, I don't appreciate being followed. I need to get out of here before Reno wakes up and finds out I'm gone."

"You're running." He moves closer, towering over me with that stoic look in his demonic eyes. I shiver at the thought of him being so close to me.

"No," I keep the shuriken in view, a silent warning to him on getting any closer. "I just can't have him around for 'collateral' damage."

"I see."

"I don't mean to be rude, but I really need to be on my way. Perhaps our paths will cross again someday, but right now is not a good time."

"It's never a good time in _our_ field of work."

His words make me stop in my tracks.

He steps closer still, nonthreatening for a change. "Maybe we can help one another."

"Business in Midgar?"

"You could say that."

"Hojo?"

Vincent nods and then looks down at me. "Scarlet?"

I nod.

"I think we can work out a deal then."

"I just need to get to Kalm," I tell him. "It's important that I get there quickly, within the next day or two if possible. I can offer you information in exchange."

"What kind of information?"

I reach into the pocket of my blazer and withdraw the small slip of paper Reno gave me. "It's the locations of something called Huge Materia. I don't know exactly what it is, but Scarlet and Rufus want it in the worst way. Reno didn't know too much about it either, but it was important enough that he gave it to me with hopes that I would 'pass it on' to AVALANCHE at some point."

Vincent accepts the slip of paper and reads over it. His eyes narrow in response. "Is this accurate?"

"It's as accurate as I have at the moment. I didn't get the chance to check it out personally yet."

"Is this Reno trustworthy?"

"I'd trust him with my life," I tell him, leaving out the fact that the man almost killed me at one point. What he doesn't know won't hurt him, I hope.

"Then that is how it is." Satisfied, Vincent tucks the piece of paper into his pocket and once again looks at me. "Let us be on our way."

"Wait," I stop. "I can't just go with you as I am."

Barret will kill me on sight if he finds out who I am, or once was. I don't have the fierce persona of someone like Vincent and I get the idea that even having one Turk aboard, former or not, doesn't sit well with him, let alone someone who actually should be dead right now.

"Personal reasons?"

"More than you know," I say. "I'm not exactly 'welcome' in AVALANCHE."

"We can find a way around it." He begins walking. "I owe a debt to you."

I move to follow.

"Barret can't find out about this."

"He won't," Vincent assures me. "He has other problems to deal with at the moment. We're two members short as it is."

Two members short? That doesn't sound good at all.

"Really?"

"Tifa is staying with Cloud," he tells me, no emotion in his voice. "We felt it best that she be allowed to mourn in peace."

Cloud…I avert my eyes. Death walks close to him, scythe ready to harvest his soul. I could feel his presence in the air. Please, Cloud, get better, for her. Don't make her suffer by losing you. Survive and beat the odds.

I look behind me, catching the light of the clinic for a brief few seconds. It does not go unnoticed to Vincent, who remains silent. There are no such things as goodbyes when one is a Turk. To say the forbidden word is taboo and begs for a death sentence. Therefore, we say our goodbyes in private, silent and without emotion.

I turn away, struggling to leave the image of Cloud lying in that hospital bed behind me. Zack, wherever you are, watch over him and keep him from suffering. He'll be with you soon. Keep him out of a trouble.

I begin following Vincent, the city falling behind the two of us.

"Hey! Look who it is," Yuffie greets us at the entrance of a clearing, her voice joyful despite the circumstances. Her eyes roam to Rekka and then back to me in shock. "You got here quick."

"Yuffie." It is a warning as Vincent walks past. I move to follow, acknowledging her presence with a curt nod. It feels good to be back in the company of 'friends' if only for a brief moment of time.

"But, Vincent, she's-"

"On our side again," he assures her with a stoic look. "Where is Cid?"

"Tinkering with the Highwind, as usual. Why?"

"I need to talk to him," he strides past, cape menacing in the dull light of the makeshift campfire roaring at the center of the clearing. Yuffie nods and steps aside.

"He's over there somewhere," she points to the mighty steel hull of the Highwind anchored just north of the tree line. "Red's 'helping' him."

"And Barret?" Vincent asks.

"Still with Tifa back at the clinic," she says. "He told us not to wait up for him."

"Good. Yuffie," he looks down at her. "Not one word of this to anyone, especially not Barret."

"Gotcha. Does this mean that she's coming back with us this time?" Her words are hopeful.

Vincent nods.

She looks at me with a smile and I cannot help but think that she's eyeing up my materia again. Feels like old times. I move to follow Vincent towards the Highwind.

"Who in the hell thought it would be brilliant to change the goddamn codes on the engine room!" There is a loud crash, followed by large amounts of cuss words. I flinch and watch the wrench soar over the railing and land with a thud in the dirt.

"Perhaps they didn't know," Red's voice, the epitome of calm, cuts off the stream of cuss words.

"Didn't know? Didn't _know_? How in the hell do you _not_ know? It's _my_ goddamn crew for Holy's sake. They should know better than to change the goddamn codes on me."

"Yes, indeed they should," Red pads out onto the lower deck and looks down at the wrench. His nose twitches as he catches sight of both Vincent and me in the shadow of the fire. He turns his head towards Cid. "I don't think you'll have to worry too much longer about those codes."

"What in the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Vincent brought back help." Red raises his tail and once again peers over the railing like a well trained dog. "We're up here, Vincent."

Vincent watches as Red nudges the rope ladder over the side of the railing and takes a step backwards. Hiding a smirk, he scales the ladder as though it is nothing and then looks down at me. I retrieve the wrench and move to follow.

"'Bout time you got back here." Cid is standing at the entrance of the engine room, glaring at a small panel box on the door that sports a series of dents and cracks no doubt brought about by the wrench. He turns towards Vincent, cigarette hanging from his mouth and eyebrow twitching with frustration. When his eyes catch sight of me though, he almost drops the offensive cancer stick. "What's _she_ doing here?"

"Thought you could use a little bit of help," is all Vincent says.

Cid moves closer and snatches the wrench from my hand. "I don't need any help."

"There is no shame in admitting you don't have the foggiest clue what the combination is," Red says matter-of-factly. Cid glares at him.

"You don't either, cat."

"I am not a cat," he says, offended.

"Sure as hell act like one."

"I resent that."

"Maybe I can help," I say, before the two of them can escalate the argument. Vincent gives me a look of approval as I walk past Cid and Red, eyeing the small panel box. Looks like a fairly simple design. I won't take me long to break the code on it.

"You're more than welcome to the damn thing," Cid says. "Damn door shut on me before I could get the code changed. Now we're locked out."

I step closer to the box and begin disconnecting several of the wires. Within minutes, the little red light turns green and the door slides open. Cid gives me a look of disbelief.

"How in the hell did you do that?"

"Comes with the job," I tell him.

"Job or not, I'll take it," he says. "So what are you doing here anyway? Thought you were in Junon."

"I'm trying to get to Kalm."

"She's given us a few leads on Shinra," Vincent says and hands the slip of paper to Cid. For a moment, the blond-haired pilot looks over Reno's writing before looking back at me.

"Whose side are you on anyway?"

"Neither," I tell him. "I'm neither your friend, nor your enemy. Take that info as you will."

It is silent for several seconds as Cid seems to mull the information over in his mind. Finally, he speaks.

"So you're going to Kalm are you?"

I nod.

"I think we can repay the favor."

"Good," Vincent steps forward. "It is important Barret doesn't find out about her."

"Well you won't be doing anyone any favors in that suit," he says. "Know anything about aircraft?"

"I was a pilot once. I know some light mechanical maintenance if that helps."

"I'm reminded why I liked you the first time," he says. "Come with me. I'll find you a uniform to be proud of. Welcome to the Highwind, one of the finest crews in the world."


	56. Catwalks and Closed Doors

**Whoa. I just realized that we're almost at 300 reviews on this fic. You don't know how happy that makes the Muse. Seriously, you folks rock! Thank you very much for supporting me so far on this project. It really means a lot to me. That said, I hope you enjoy this long overdue update, even if it is a dialogue heavy filler-ish one. With summer almost here, the updates should be appearing regularly. ^_^**

**Chapter Fifty Six – Catwalks and Closed Doors**

I'd always heard rumors that the Highwind was the closest thing to a flying palace that Shinra had. Several tons of impenetrable steel coupled with the speed to match the legends of its glory. Reno had explained the whole thing to me at one point, along with very vocally voicing his discontent at never being able to qualify to fly it, because he was a Turk. Turks don't fly airships. It's tucked away somewhere in the official Shinra rule book.

That's the thing about Reno, the man _loves_ flying. He's spent more hours doting over his helicopter, lovingly christened 'Lea,' over the years than he has drinking and trying to pick up loose women at the bars. It's a Turk thing. Flight was the closest thing to freedom any of us were ever going to get and we took full advantage of it as the opportunities arose.

I feel guilty in a way. Here I am, not only privileged to walk aboard the legendary Highwind, but to serve as an actual member of the crew, under command of a man who has probably forgotten more about aviation over the years than Reno will ever know.

"So, what do you think?" Cid asks, a hint of amusement in his voice as he places both hands upon his hips and surveys his kingdom in pride.

"It's a hell of a ship, that's for sure." I'm in awe as I find myself staring at a rising maze of catwalks and closed doors suspended over the hundreds of thousands of pounds of twisting metal that forms the mighty engines that purr and rumble, keeping the ship hovering low to the ground in its current stationary position. Bright white arrows mark the paths across the catwalks and steel plated platforms to several sets of steel stairs leading to other areas of the ship. An operations room announces its presence in bright red letters. From the looks of thing there is even a chocobo stable. I've seen blueprints of the thing over the years and walked in its shadow while on assignment in Junon far too many times that I care to admit, but I'd never actually _seen_ the interior before.

"Damn right it is, girlie. She's one of a kind." There is a distinct sense of pride in his voice as he says it. "Those Shinra bastards don't know what they've lost."

"Cid." Vincent's cold tone interrupts the pilot before he can launch into a glorified explanation of how the entire ship was conceived, constructed, and eventually captured. "Barret will return soon."

"Calm your chocobos, Valentine. He won't be back for a while yet."

"I beg to differ," Vincent's eyes narrow and he steps closer. "Unless you want your precious Highwind full of bullet holes and the task of trying to get bloodstains out of the floor when he finds out we've joined forces with a Turk, I suggest we leave the story of your ship for another day."

"You're a real killjoy, you know that?" Cid reaches into the front pocket of his shirt and withdraws a cigarette. Seconds later, the thick, offensive odor of smoke drifts in the air and he looks at me. "So, aside from being one of Shinra's goddamn pedigree lapdogs with a knack for lock picking, what sorts of things are you good at?"

"A large portion of my specialties lie in computers," I tell him. "But I do know some light maintenance. Nothing too advanced, but enough to take care of most minor issues that tend to show up at the most inconvenient of times."

If I had a gil for every time I had to replace a faulty bolt, tighten loose wires, or scrub corrosion off of various pieces of helicopter equipment, most often while on assignment, I'd be a fairly wealthy woman. Helicopters were great and all, but maintaining them took a fair chunk of whatever free time we actually had. Reno was probably the only one who actually enjoyed it.

"That all, kid?" Cid says in amusement and looks towards Vincent. "You brought a _rookie_ aboard _my_ ship?"

I cannot help but take some offense at being referred to as a 'rookie.'

"I seem to recall that 'rookie' managed to get you back into your ship when your own crew wouldn't unlock the door." Vincent says matter-of-factly.

"They didn't know I was locked out!"

"My point is well proven."

"Alright, alright, I get it," his gaze falls back upon me and he takes a puff of his cigarette. "Think I just found my new janitor."

"Cid," Vincent's tone is one of warning.

"Fine, but sooner or later, I'm going to find a good janitor for this ship. I'm still determined that it's gonna be Yuffie by the time it's all said and done."

A glimpse of amusement flashes across Vincent's eyes at the prospect. "Tifa won't let you though."

"Well she's not here now, is she? Therefore, my ship, my rules and whether the brat likes it or not, she's gonna be scrubbing toilets. With all the time she spends being air sick, I think it's appropriate."

I can't help but feel a little sorry for Yuffie. No one likes being sick, especially when flying. That's almost as bad as being straight motion sick or even worse, sea sick.

Cid takes another drag on his cigarette. "So, Turky, you said you were a pilot. Anything you're good at that might be of benefit to us? Or were you one of those co-pilot types who served almost no purpose aside from making sure the pilot didn't fall asleep? Because you don't look the type to handle much."

"For your information, _sir_, I was a very capable helicopter pilot. I'm more than well-versed in reading navigation equipment and dealing with radio signals and surveillance frequencies, mostly while flying the damn thing."

Cid smirks and shakes his head. "Well this rig ain't no damn helicopter."

"I am well aware of that, Mr. Highwind," I keep my voice almost emotionless, trying not to let him know that he's really starting to piss me off. "Most of Shinra's navigation and radio frequencies though, operate on the same wave lengths. If anything, I might be able to teach some of your navigators how to manipulate the codes so that they can virtually fly invisible to Shinra's radar."

He raises an eyebrow, caught somewhat by surprise. "You know all those codes, kid? No shittin'?"

"Sir, I'm a hacker. Shinra hasn't written a code yet that I can't break. Not to mention the fact that for any of us Turks to actually fly our birds, we were required to know that code system inside and out so that we could get into and out of the main hubs without anyone knowing we were even there."

Cid remains quiet for several seconds, pondering my words. Finally, he speaks. "You talk big, kid, but can you prove it?"

"Yes, I can."

"Alright," he says, lacking the confidence in his words. "You mess anything up though, and I won't hesitate to throw you overboard."

Fantastic. Just what I need today, to be thrown off the deck of the Highwind. So much for having a brief moment of time where I don't have to worry about something. Like I really expected anything less.

"You have nothing to worry about," I assure him. "It wouldn't do the world an ounce of good if the Highwind ended up in anything less than stellar shape. It's not as though I'm going to be removing any nuts and bolts."

"If I give you a wrench you will, rookie."

"Mr. Highwind, in case you haven't already noticed, I have a terrible habit of throwing things when I'm pissed off. Wrenches could safely be included in that category. I strongly advise against it."

At this, Cid chuckles and just shakes his head. "Well aren't you just a piece of work. None of my other crew talks to me like this."

"Technically, I'm not a member of your crew yet."

"I wouldn't be so quick to distance yourself, Turky. You're on _my_ ship; therefore, you're part of _my_ crew until you either leave or I kick you out."

"I'll respect that."

"Good," he looks towards Vincent again with a smirk. "She's your recruit, Valentine. She screws anything up; you get to go over with her, right over the ocean. Might even throw in the world's greatest ninja to keep you company too if I feel like it."

"Fair enough," Vincent nods in agreement.

"Alright then, now that we got that out of the way, time to prove your stuff kid." He motions for me to follow him as he begins walking along the catwalks to the set of double doors.

I move to follow him, Vincent falling in step behind us. "So what have you got for me to work with?"

"I'd have thought you lapdogs would know that already. You really are green-"

"Shinra doesn't like his Turks anywhere near things like the Highwind, and even during the brief time his ass was in need of protecting aboard it, he deliberately kept the one Turk who's dream it was to ride this thing away from it. So no, the short answer to that is that we Turks _don't_ already know what we have to work with, aside from what we saw in the blueprints."

"Who would have thought."

"Well, for future reference, now you know. So are you going to answer my question, or not?"

At this, he chuckles and pries the heavy metal doors open. They open with a loud screech, revealing a well-lit open area that can only be the bridge. It's deserted this late at night, eerily quiet even.

"The equipment is as state of the art as one can get," he says smugly. "It may not have been in my hands for several years, but ol' Shinra kept it up to code. Bastards wore the gears out on some things though and I'm not sure I even want to _know_ how they did it."

"Probably all of that corner cutting they did to get the project back on track and still keep it under budget." I'm not going to lie; this bridge is a hell of a lot more impressive than I imagined it to be. "Palmer wouldn't know a hex gear from a wing nut if someone gave him the proper flash cards and then pointed it out to him."

"How in the hell that man was left in charge of the space program, I'll never know." He shakes his head and then points to the open floor of the flight deck bridge. "Well, tell me what everything is, Turky."

"He probably got the job because Scarlet got tired of screwing him and didn't want him blackmailing her about it at some point," I cannot help but add, much as I don't ever want to entertain that image in my mind _ever_ again. The scary part is, if you dig deep enough into the rumor, there is disturbing evidence that it might actually be true.

I look towards the three different command center control stations placed around the bridge, slightly intimidated by the whole ordeal. All I really have to go on are the stories that Reno told me about each station and that was based on his careful and almost religious study of the blueprints and files he got his hands on. I point to the station at the upper far right region of the bridge where a helm sits. "That's your position, where the ship is controlled and steered."

Cid nods with a grin, but says nothing.

I glance at the station positioned to the left, directly in our path if we follow the floor arrow from the door. Several lights are illuminated on it and I watch the familiar screens with their static grids, thankful for some semblance of familiarity. "Judging by the radar screens and radio equipment, that would be your communications hub."

Again, I receive a nod of approval.

The last station though, nestled down on a secondary deck is rather odd. I've never seen something so complicated, but process of elimination tells me that it can only serve one real purpose that the other two stations don't. "That station down there, it handles everything else, like engine pressure, mechanical systems analysis, weapons relay signals, and fuels."

"Well, I'll be damned. You really do know _something_ after all, kid. Some of my crew can't even tell the difference between the three." He grins and looks towards Vincent. "Any chance you could get this one to stay _if_ this arrangement works out?"

"That's not my place to answer," he simply says. "You'd have to ask her."

Cid looks at me with a nod. "Well, Turky, you heard the question."

I cross my arms across my chest and continue scanning the bridge with my eyes. I haven't even done anything yet and this guy is openly thinking about recruiting me. I'm not sure whether I should be honored, or just plain offended by the gesture. AVALANCHE must be in worse shape than they let on at the moment.

"I'm currently serving as a contractor, Mr. Highwind. Being an aviation man, you should understand just what that means. At the moment, I can't commit to anything beyond reaching Kalm as soon as possible."

"This must be hellishly important if you're in such a hurry about it. Anything we'd be interested in?"

He's pushing his luck, trying to see what he can and can't get away with. From the look on Vincent's face, I'm not too far off in that assumption.

"I already gave you what you'd be interested in," I tell him. "It's none of your business what I'm going to Kalm for."

"It damn well is," he says matter-of-factly and takes another drag of his cigarette. "How do we know you're not going there to inform your other lapdogs of our whereabouts or something?"

I draw my PHS from my pocket and hold it up, eyes narrowed. "Because if I really wanted to turn you all in, all I'd have to do is make one simple phone call and activate the tracing feature on this thing. It would sync with the Highwind's internal network, putting it back online, and they could pinpoint its exact location."

"So what's stopping you, Turky? You have us right here. Isn't that your _job_?"

The way he says it makes me uneasy. Vincent remains stoic, no doubt watching and waiting to see how I choose to respond to Cid's badgering. He just doesn't know when to back off.

"First off, it's not _my_ job anymore. Second, I don't _want_ them knowing where I'm at right now."

"Heh, trouble in the lapdog pack?"

"Draw your own conclusions and think what you will. I have neither want, nor need to explain the details. All you need to know is that I am not a threat to AVALANCHE."

"You're not getting off the hook that easily," he says, clearly enjoying this interrogation. "I know how you lapdogs work. You don't bite right away. You track your targets and wait until an opportune time. Now I wouldn't be a very good captain if I didn't suspect that you were up to something."

"You're right," I tell him. "That _is_ exactly how we work. And I won't deny that I have been heavily involved in AVALANCHE's affairs more than I really care to admit lately. However, have I given you any reason to believe that I am out to get you? No, I haven't. So as it stands, you can either accept my help temporarily, or let me walk away. That choice is yours and I'll accept it. Watchdogs do a lot of things, Mr. Highwind, but one thing we won't do is beg, for anything."

And we won't. It never was and never will be in our nature. I don't exactly _need_ AVALANCHE's help in getting back to Kalm. It would be convenient, yes, but I do have other options I can take advantage of if the need arises.

Cid extinguishes his cigarette. "Can't say I'm one hundred percent convinced that you're on our side and can be trusted, but you sure as hell are upfront about things."

"That's what you get when you deal with a Turk, Mr. Highwind. We don't like to waste time or mince words."

"That's a good thing," he says. "Because I won't tolerate laziness on my crew. However, I just can't send you away. You _did_ give us a hell of a leg up on Shinra's next move. And I did say I'd repay the favor. How about this, Turky, you keep us out of Shinra's crosshairs, and we'll see to it that you get to Kalm."

"I consider that a fair trade."

"Good," he says. "I'll show you to where you'll be staying. Hope you don't mind rooming with the 'world's greatest ninja,' but I don't have any other female crew aboard my ship, and Gaia knows my men wouldn't be able to keep their mouths shut if they found out you were a Turk."


	57. Just an Acquaintance

**Ah yes, summer. Epic time of vacations, fun in the sun, and other enjoyable summer activities. Also time for overworked and underpaid Muses to get caught up on things that they've been putting off during their busy seasons. Alas, this is another filler-ish sort of chapter, but rest assured, enjoy them now because when we finally get out of this particular arc in the fic—and I can't wait until we do because I hate it—a whole new set of problems arise that will be more than worth the wait. Some of you already know what they are. (If you're in that group, please don't tell anyone what I'm talking about, as it would ruin the surprise. Thanks!) Anyway, I managed to get this update to you about two months sooner than normal and it shouldn't be the last this summer either. Enjoy folks! **

**Chapter Fifty Seven – Just an Acquaintance**

The lodging aboard the Highwind is a rather interesting affair, considering that I remember this particular area of the ship being little more than a pair of large storage rooms on the blueprints with a question mark stamped over them. From the looks of things, over the years they were converted from storage to an attempt at adequate lodging for the crew. There are two separate rooms, the crude attempts at signs above each of the doors differentiating between men and women.

"It's ain't quite the Icicle Inn, but it's the best we can do at the moment," Cid pushes open a door to reveal a series of neatly made cots lined up against the walls much like a military dormitory. "Hope you lapdogs aren't terribly picky. Because if you are, well that's just too damn bad."

"Well you're in luck then," I snipe. "Because this is a step up from my previous accommodations. You'd be surprised at some of the places we Turks have slept before."

"You're too damn polite for a lapdog, you know that."

"Just because I wear the suit doesn't mean I don't have manners, Mr. Highwind," I say in annoyance.

"We'll see how long _that_ lasts with the 'world's greatest ninja' as your roommate."

"I don't foresee any major problems." And I honestly don't. Yuffie should know by now that I'm not one to want any unnecessary trouble and that making any and all attempts at either stealing my materia or just plain trying to piss me off doesn't ever end well on her behalf.

"Famous last words," he says. "Just make sure that if you do end up killing her by tomorrow morning that you find a decent way to dispose of the body without anyone finding out."

"Don't get your hopes too high," I scowl at the comment. "The odds as strongly in favor that your ninja will be perfectly fine."

"Afraid she'll outdo you?" There is amusement in his words.

My fingers drum against the surface of Rekka in annoyance.

"Not at all," I say. "I just don't want to have to clean my weapon in the morning. It's a real pain in the ass trying to get blood out of the inlaid steel grooves sometimes."

Cid chuckles at the comment. "Alright, Turky. I'll let you deal with it however you choose. Just be ready to report to the bridge at 0500 hours. I'll see if I can find one of my crew jackets in your size before then."

I nod. "0500 hours it is."

The answer seems to suffice for Cid and I'm finally left alone for the time being. That won't last long once Yuffie decides to turn in for the night, but I intend on enjoying the brief moment of quiet as much as I can.

These are probably some of the nicest accommodations I've been privileged to in a long time. Sure as hell beats sleeping on a stack of fruit crates or the floor like it has been lately. I glance around for a place to call it a night.

Judging from the way the one cot's covers are straightened with a style that I've seen plenty of times while helping to clean to rooms at Seventh Heaven, I can safely assume Tifa called the one closest to the door as her own. That would leave the unmade bed across from it Yuffie's more than likely. Looks like I have my pick of one of the ones against the far wall.

I don't even have Rekka leaned against the wall properly before my PHS shrills. Can't I have three minutes of time to myself? I retrieve the annoying contraption and flip it open, recognizing the name. For a moment, I consider retracing my steps to the outer deck and simply pitching said PHS over the railing, but I think better of it at the last second.

"_The hell, 'Nei,"_ Reno's bypassed casual frustration and gone right into absolutely pissed mode. _"You just up and ran off again without even bothering to say goodbye." _

Why did I answer his phone call again? Right, because he would have continued to call until I did.

"Look, Reno, I had to," my words are guarded. "I couldn't afford to wait until morning for this."

"_Sure as hell could have woke me up and told me about it before you up and ran off,"_ he snaps. _"Goddamn useless engineer makes one phone call and you're gone. I swear to god I'm gonna kill him for this."_

"Reno," I try to keep my own frustration in check. "It was important that I left when I did."

"_Bullshit, 'Nei. There isn't anything he could have said that you couldn't have told me first before just running off!" _

"Actually, this time it was."

"_Oh really?"_ he's not convinced. _"Such as what?"_

"You know I can't tell you that information." And I can't. Though a little part of me already knows that Tseng and the group know their location, I still can't tell him. I _won't_ tell him more correctly. They're _my_ business, not theirs.

"_Fine, don't tell me,"_ he growls. _"At least tell me where you are though."_

"I can't tell you that either." More like I don't want to. If Reno found out where I was…I don't even want to think about it.

"_Don't make this difficult, 'Nei."_

"It's already there, Reno."

"_Just tell me where in the hell you are." _

"No."

"_Come on. You know I'm not going to chase you down. I'm far too lazy for that yo."_

"Trust me; you don't want to even know." I glance around the room. I need to wrap this conversation up quickly, before the others show up and misunderstand completely. I don't have total immunity here.

"_Actually, I do wanna know."_

"No, you don't."

"_You didn't steal my helicopter did you?"_ he asks with a hint of amusement in his voice. _"Because if you did, I will hunt you down."_

"I didn't touch your precious helicopter," I answer with annoyance. "Though you should keep your keys better guarded."

"_I thought you'd take the bait." _

"You should know me better by now." Not that I didn't think about stealing his helicopter. I wouldn't need the key to do so either. AVALANCHE just happened to make me a better offer.

"_Unfortunately, I do,"_ he says. _"So how exactly do you plan on escaping this god-awful island anyway? I know for a fact that shipping routes only run once a week here and even that's sketchy with those Weapons chowing down on anything and everything that crosses their path." _

"That's my business, not yours."

"_Aw, come on, 'Nei. You can tell me anything." _

I'm going to regret this, I just know it. "No, trust me on this, I can't. Not this time."

"_Then lie to me,"_ he says matter-of-factly. _"I know you can tell damn good stories when you want to."_

"Fine, if you must know, I unintentionally called in a favor that was owed to me." It's not entirely a lie. Even if I'm volunteering my services to help keep this group out of the crosshairs for another day as a show of good measure towards them.

This seems to mean something to Reno, who immediately answers in shock. _"No friggin way yo. You're not where I think you are. You better not be." _

"I told you that you didn't want to know."

"_You had better be lying to me, 'Nei. I swear to god if you're aboard that ship, I will come after you right this second." _

"For someone who's too lazy to come after me, that got your attention awfully quick," I tell him.

"_You said you weren't going back to them!" _

"I didn't exactly get a choice in the matter." And I didn't. Vincent leaves no room for argument when he offers a proposition.

"_Bullshit. There's no friggin way."_ He's seething now. Great, just what I wanted to avoid. _"Which side are you on anyway?" _

"Don't even go there. Considering that both sides seem to want me dead right now, I'd say I'm free to play the field however the hell I choose."

"_You don't seem to realize just what you're doing—"_

"Well I'm obviously doing _something_ right, Reno. I seem to still be alive at the moment."

"'_Nei, I didn't mean to-"_

"Look, I don't want to get into this with you tonight," I tell him softly. "My alliance with AVALANCHE is just until I get to where I need to go. Nothing more. Nothing less. Besides, I had some information they could use."

"_If I'd of known you were going to up and run off on me in the middle of the night, I never would have given you that information to begin with." _

"Yes, you would have." No sense trying to lie to me, Reno. I know just as many of your tricks as you do of mine.

He sighs. _"You're probably right on that. Still wish you would have at least said goodbye." _

"Reno," my voice is soft. "You know we don't say 'goodbye.' Never have. Never will. Had I no intention of coming back alive from this, I would have woken you up and told you I was leaving for good. Just please, try to understand. I had to leave when I did."

"_Alright, 'Nei. I'll trust your judgment on this. Just promise me you'll be careful, okay? We don't need to lose you." _

"Thank you, Reno. I'll try my best to be careful."

"_Good. So,"_ his voice takes on a more impish tone. _"Is the Highwind half as elegant as the rumors say she is?"_

"You want honesty? Or should I just lie to you?"

"_Come on, 'Nei. You know the answer to that. Tell me already."_

I swear he's like a little kid sometimes.

"It's intimidating. And loud."

"_Aw, come on. You have to be more detailed than that. Are the engines really as large as everyone says they are? How about the bridge? Come on, 'Nei. Throw me a bone here. I need to know." _

"Well, I've only really seen a small portion of the actual ship. The bridge is incredible though. They have three different stations that control everything, including a radar station from what I saw and a separate station for engine controls."

"_You and your fancy navigation equipment,"_ Reno scoffs. _"Still though. Anything like the blueprints?"_

At least he's calmed down a little bit. I sit down on the bed. "Better than the blueprints. Maybe if you're nice to me I'll send you some pictures of it."

"_Did I ever tell you that I love you?" _

I can't help but laugh at the tone he's using with me. Leave it to Reno and aviation to make the day seem a little brighter.

"I believe you've never said it quite like that," I snicker. "But yes, I will send you some pictures."

"_Good. Because if you don't, I'll keep pestering you until you do. One way or another I'm going to end up on that ship." _

"Reno, you know I'd switch places with you in a heartbeat if I could." The echo of feet against the steel catwalk catches my attention.

"_Now I know you're lying to me and you know it." _

"I'm living in a storage closet and have to somehow pass for a member of the crew without anyone finding out what I really am. No, I'm not lying when I said I'd switch you places."

Reno chuckles at the comment. _"So, AVALANCHE treating you right?"_

"That depends on how you look at it. I'm stuck with the 'world's greatest ninja' tonight."

"_I take it she's annoying if your tone has anything to do with it." _

"Worse. From what I understand, she's terminally airsick when it comes to flying."

Now Reno's really laughing. _"Oh this is just too good." _

"It's not funny!"

"_Yes it is. This would be the definition of Turk Karma if there ever was a thing." _

"Yeah, lucky me," I scowl. The door opens with a loud bang, Yuffie striding in. "Look, I gotta go."

"_Already? But we just started talking,"_ he whines.

"I'll call you back when I get the chance."

"_Promise?" _

"Yes, I promise. Have a good night." I flip the phone closed and tuck it into the pocket of my blazer.

"Who was _that_?" Yuffie snickers and plops down on her bed. "A _boyfriend_?"

"That's none of your business," I scowl. "He's just an acquaintance."

"Didn't sound like 'just an acquaintance,'" she says with that impish look. "Come on, you can tell me. I promise not to tell anyone."

"No."

"Aw, come on. I wanna know."

Thanks, Reno. Look what you managed to do tonight. I lay down on my bed and look at the ceiling.

"Fine, if you promise to let me alone for at least a couple of hours, I might tell you all of the 'details' later. Okay?" It's a lie. There's no way in hell I'll tell her anything, but I'm tired and just want to get some sleep before 0500 hours.

Yuffie smirks at the prospect. "Promise."

"Yeah, sure. Promise," I say. "And don't even think about touching that materia. Just because we're roommates doesn't mean anything's changed. Got that?"

She nods, looking a little dejected as she takes her eyes off of my weapon. It's going to be a long night. I can feel it.


	58. On Deck

**I apologize for this update taking so long to get done. I've been a very busy Muse lately with the real novel and work, both of which have put a huge strain on fan fiction time. The good thing? I'm learning to be a better writer. The bad thing? I'm making snails look like sprinters. xD For those of you who've hung out this long with the fic, you have no idea how much I appreciate your patience. Seriously, all you readers totally rock. I'm working through this arc as quickly as I'm able, and trust me, what comes after these chapters will be worth the wait. Those of you who already know, don't spoil it please! Anyway, back on this update. Yes, I did name some of Cid's crew members in this chapter. And yes, this chapter is a little on the slow side and more of a filler than I wanted it to be. Things will pick up soon though, once we get to Condor at least. That said. Enjoy the update folks! **

**Chapter Fifty Eight – On Deck**

Morning aboard the Highwind is a chaotic affair. After accepting the traditional slate gray flight jacket with its tan vest and the world's ugliest hat, both several sizes too large, it's been nothing but 'meet this person,' 'remember that person' since the day officially began. Granted, I'm used to the hustle and bustle of meeting groups of people and putting on a darn good show of blending in, but this is ridiculous. It doesn't help that I don't exactly have a name that I can offer up in exchange for theirs. I'm officially known as 'Rookie,' courtesy of Cid, because there's a higher than normal chance they'd identify me as a Turk using the name I go by, and Jessie is out, thanks to Barret.

"And this is the navigation console, where we monitor and control all flight paths and listen in on the radio waves." 'Chip,' as the young man identifies himself as, eagerly informs me as he carefully points out each section of the console as though I am a complete idiot.

Instead of saying anything, I politely nod and allow him to launch into an in-depth explanation of every little spot on the radar screen. When he begins trying to explain several of those little clicks of the avian variety as being enemy aircraft though, I find myself resisting the urge to seek out the 'captain' of this debacle and ask him just _why_ his Chief Navigation Officer is telling me that the entire Junon Air Fleet is perched directly atop the Highwind right now preening its feathers.

I keep my mouth shut and continue to listen to this embarrassing explanation. How these guys didn't get caught yet is absolutely amazing. Then again, if this keeps up, they'll probably be the first airship to open fire on itself; something that I can only assume is being prevented by Cid. Hell, it's no wonder the man smokes and cusses as much as he does. With a crew like this, I would too.

"So are you on communications channel 7A or 62C?" I ask in a casual attempt to move the conversation into something that I can actually work with.

You'd swear I just asked him in Wutainese or something from the blank stare I receive in response.

"Um…"

"Civilian or Military?" I respond, hoping to clear things up for him.

"I'm not exactly sure…"

At this, I look towards the pilot's station, eyes narrowed and seeking out the man responsible for this so that we can have a little chat about the level of incompetence I'm encountering. It's way too early in the morning for this right now.

Cid's not anywhere to be found, leaving me to deal with Chip and the question that seems to have him so confused.

"Okay, look," I keep my words even, reminding myself that I can't exactly call him an idiot and get away with it here. "7A is low key chatter, mostly private planes and civilian shuttle flights. 62C is your military, everything Shinra, from Gelnikas to the Turks. Trust me, you'll know which one is which, because by now, there is a permanent 'No fly' zone enacted for everything but military. If you don't want to get shot out of the sky, you'll make damn sure that you're on 62C."

Chip actually takes a step backwards at the words.

"And for the record, those aren't enemy aircraft. Those are birds. I suggest you learn the difference."

He's looking at me as though he's not sure whether he should be running for his life right now, or trying to defend himself. I turn my attention from him to the navigation console.

"I trust you know how to navigate the proper frequencies and set your switches." Cid wouldn't let someone near his precious ship otherwise. "So I'll make this easy for you. Show me how to get the console online and I'll show you how to keep this ship out of Shinra's cross-hairs."

Chip is hesitant at first, but when it becomes apparent that he's got nothing to argue against me with, he quickly caves and steps up to the console with a nod.

"You see these switches here," he points to a series of color coded switches lining the top of the console and flips the first three down. "They switch on the computer to bring the radio online."

I watch as the small screen flashes blue and scrolls several lines of text across it. Looks like Shinra didn't bother upgrading their programs any in the past few weeks. Good. That makes this easier.

After several seconds, Chip begins typing commands on the keyboard, scrolling through his radar analysis screen, small graphs detailing altitude, and a world map.

"Let me show you something that will make your life easier." I reach over and bring up a small code input box. Quickly arranging the commands, I click enter and watch as all three of his screens neatly situate themselves on the same screen.

"How did you _do_ that?"

"Very carefully. Now you can keep tabs on everything and spend most of your attention on watching Shinra's movements."

He nods and leans closer, intrigued.

"And this," I begin picking through the layers of code until I find what I'm looking for. The screen flashes once, several red dots filling the screen. "Shows you the location of every Shinra aircraft in flight at the moment."

If he wasn't impressed before, he certainly is now. For several seconds, he stares at the screen and then he looks at me. Before he can say anything, there is an unholy crash from the engine room as the metal doors fly open.

"You fire any holes into my 'goddamn' ship and I'll make sure your ass is walking to Corel."

"This don't involve you," Barret glares at Cid as though the very look will intimidate the grizzled old airman.

"The hell it doesn't," Cid's anything but intimidated. "You need me and my crew to go anywhere."

"That don't matter right now!" Barret is seething and if it wasn't for the fact that Cid is technically right about the ship, he'd probably be firing wildly with that gun-arm of his. "What matters is we ain't got two members of the group with us."

"So?"

"So? _So_? We ain't got _two_ people we _need_!" Barret turns and plants his fist against the metal railing. "Goddamn spike just had to go and do what he did. And then Tifa goes and leaves us too."

Cid shrugs. "It's her choice."

"I know that! I ain't saying it ain't her choice. But right now ain't the time to be doing this sort of thing!"

Cid shakes his head and lights a cigarette. "Look, you have two options here. You can either use my ship to find this materia and possibly stop Sephiroth and Meteor, or you can get the hell off of it. I don't want a pity party aboard. Bad for crew morale."

Barret glares, but says nothing. He slams his gun-arm against the top of the railing and storms to the head of the bridge. I pretend to be busy with navigation equipment as though nothing happened.

Cid shakes his head and strolls to his station to oversee a nervous young man at the helm named Fletcher. For a few seconds, it seems as though life is going back to its regularly schedules chaos, but no sooner than it does, the door swings open and the rest of the AVALANCHE crew filters into the bridge.

Vincent makes his way past with a nod in my direction before walking down to the engine station to make them nervous with his mere presence. He's followed by Red who looks as though he's going to turn around and snap Cait Sith from atop its moogle.

"Stop pulling my tail."

"I just wanted to see if it was real fire or not," Cait Sith chides.

Looks like Reeve's having a bit of fun this morning at least.

"It's very rude," the large cat-like creature glares with his one good eye.

"Fine," Cait Sith appears to pout for several seconds. "I won't pull your tail again. You're no fun anyway."

Red doesn't even acknowledge that with a verbal response, merely making his way to the top of the steps to the engine console and lies down.

Yuffie doesn't bother to even come with the group this round, no doubt already airsick, despite the fact that we're not even off the ground yet.

"What's the plan?" Vincent says and leans against the console.

Barret doesn't turn to acknowledge the stoic man. "I dunno. What are we gonna do now? What _can_ we do?"

"We move on and complete the mission."

I glance over at Vincent at the words. For a moment, he almost sounded like Veld. That's something _he'd_ certainly say.

"Thank you!" Cid mumbles and once again begins his attempt to put the fear of Gaia into his fledgling pilot-in-training.

Barret turns to glare at Vincent, but thinks better of it, clearly intimidated by the man. "Exactly how are we gonna do that? Don't be tellin' us to wait for Cloud to get better either."

Vincent crosses his arms across his chest, eyes narrowed. "We're capable of handling this issue as we are."

"What the hell do you know anyway?"

Vincent stands up and if looks could kill, Barret would be a dead man. Before he can say what he's going to say, Cait Sith hops up and down.

"I've got some news."

Both Barret and Vincent glare at him.

"What, that you're a spy?" Barret's words are beyond annoyed.

Cait Sith looks at him and somehow I imagine Reeve annoyed. "I already told you I was. Both Gya ha ha and Kya ha ha are up to something. Wanna eavesdrop?"

"Yes," Vincent says before Barret even has time to think about it.

Cait Sith nods and hits a small switch on his megaphone.

Red growls at the high pitched sound it makes, but doesn't bother getting up.

"_We're faced with two issues." _Rufus's voice echoes from the megaphone. I flinch at the voice, imagining him standing at the head of the boardroom table, staring down what remains of his staff. Heidegger and Scarlet are probably seated beside each other, while Palmer is at the far other end cozying up to an uncomfortable Reeve.

"_And those are?" _Reeve asks, clearly not convinced.

"_Destroying Meteor and removing the barrier around North Crater so that we can defeat Sephiroth." _

"_You really think we can do that?"_

"_Yes. You worry about whatever it is you do and let us worry about the real issues." _

There is a loud sound as though someone's just slammed their hands down on the table in frustration. _"I'm in charge of Midgar and the people in its safety damn it. If whatever you have planned doesn't work out, we need to figure out how to get people out of the city as quickly as possible." _

"_Go back to your little drafting table, Tuesti, and let those of us who actually have power work." _

I hit the keyboard a little harder than intended at Scarlet's words.

"_Fight on your own time," _Rufus snaps. _"I'm open to ideas on the matters at hand."_

"_Gya ha ha,"_ Heidegger's stupid horse laugh fills the bridge. _"We already solved the first issue. Meteor will be smashed to bits!"_

"_I solved the first issue," _Scarlet growls.

Heidegger doesn't seem to mind being corrected by her and continues. _"The plan is already in motion."_

"_And that is?" _Rufus asks.

"_Gather huge materia from each region."_

I notice Cid glance in my direction, as does Vincent.

_Don't thank me, thank Reno,_ I think to myself.

"_Huge Materia is a high density, special materia made through a special compression process in Mako reactors,"_ Scarlet explains. _"The energy extracted from it is more than 330 times as powerful as regular materia. We'll gather it all together and ram it into Meteor. The explosion alone will break Meteor into pieces that will burn up in the atmosphere."_

"_You're going to ram Meteor? Do we have the technology to do that?"_

Great. Rufus is at the helm of this sinking ship and he doesn't even know what they have and don't have. Who's in control of this company anyway?

_You know the answer to that one, _my inner watchdog reminds me. I shake my head and pretend to be deeply engrossed in the map.

Scarlet laughs that awful laugh of hers. _"Of course we do. It's in Rocket Town as we speak." _

"Aw hell no," Cid almost storms over to Cait Sith, pissed beyond words. "Not my goddamn rocket you don't!"

"_Shinra No. 26?" _

"_Yes. It's being prepped as we speak." _

"_You really think this will work?" _

"_Don't you worry about that right now," _Scarlet says. "_The important thing is to gather the materia from each region first."_

"_We already got it from Nibelheim. All that's left is Corel and Fort Condor. I sent troops to Corel already."_

"_And it will be a cinch taking it from those birdbrains. I've got my troops already in position to take it by force." _

Condor? That will put me within striking distance of Kalm. Reno's information was accurate down to the exact order. I'll have to call and thank him when I get a chance.

"_Good. I want a status report the moment they get there and have it in their possession." _

"Corel!" Barret roars. "What else can they possibly do to it?"

"Apparently a lot more," Vincent answers.

"You-"

"People, please," Red sits up. "It's the huge materia that has me concerned. I've heard rumors about such a thing. When we get close to it, our own materia should react to it."

"How exactly?" Barret asks.

"I don't know. It could be a good or bad reaction."

Barret nods. "We can't let those goddamn Shinra bastards have it then!"

"This is why I said we were going there this morning," Cid growls. "I don't want my rocket being blasted to Gaia knows where. You aren't the only one with a town to protect."

"I just wanna show Cloud this huge materia when he gets back."

Cait Sith turns its attention to him. "So you _do_ miss him."

"You shut your face. I ain't saying nothing about no one. I'm just sayin' that every group's gotta have a leader."

"Isn't that supposed to be you," Vincent raises a bored eyebrow.

Barret looks at him, too intimidated to glare. "I _am_ the leader. I just ain't cut out for this sort of thing."

"I'll say," Red mutters under his breath.

"Quiet cat. I didn't know it until recently. Losing Tifa an' Cloud in one shot. It's a lot of heavy stuff to deal with," he looks toward Cid. "That's why I'm makin' you the new leader."

"The hell you are!" Cid snarls. "I don't want no pain in the ass leadership position. Forget it."

I can't help but smile at the exchange.

Barret won't be dissuaded. "We need the Highwind, and you ain't gonna let us have it without you aboard it. The whole planet depends on it. That's why you gotta do it. Ain't no one else can!"

Both Vincent and Red glare.

Cid takes a drag of his cigarette as though pondering the proposition. "Alright, I'll do it. Go get the 'world's greatest ninja.' We're going to Corel to give Shinra a run for their money. Anyone not in agreement?"

No one protests the plan.

"Good." He turns to his pilot. "Alright, show me what you learned."

He turns his attention to the wheel and there is a roar as the entire ship shakes.

I focus back on the navigation console. Looks like there's nothing but Reno in this region for the moment. Good. Gives us a little bit of time to get this right and for me to finish coding this and scrambling signals.


	59. Train of Thought

**Goodness, I didn't forget about this fic. And no, I'm _not_ dead. Thanks for the emails expressing your concern. xD I've just been extremely busy lately with real life things and that other non-fanfiction project. That said, I do intend on updating better in the new year. The fic hasn't been abandoned by any means, just delayed. That said, hopefully you'll enjoy this chapter. The Muse is finally happy to be somewhat through this arc and rapidly approaching one she's excited about. Enjoy folks and see ya'll in the new year!**

**Chapter Fifty Nine – Train of Thought**

Invisibility is just one of the perks of the job.

I can't help but feel smug as I input the final codes and watch the Highwind's signature vanish from the global network. Chip watches, fascinated, as my fingers move over the keyboard, poking Scarlet's less-than-tech savvy hounds with my proverbial paws and watching as they frantically go bounding after a fox who's hiding behind them.

It's almost like playing a twisted game of fetch. All I have to do is pick a random location on the map, preferably closest to a large fleet, hit a few buttons, and then watch as they swarm to that section of the map in hopes of catching us. So far I've managed to clear a perfect flight path from Mideel to the Corel Mountains.

"Exactly where did you say you came from again?"

I don't look away from the screen. "That's not important."

"I'm curious though. Never seen someone who does this sort of thing."

_I take it you haven't seen a lot of things…_

"Let's just say that I used to work for Shinra, before they screwed me over and I quit."

I glance over the top of the console, keeping my words quiet so not to draw Barret's attention.

"How long were you with them to learn _these_ tricks?"

"Long enough."

"I'm serious. I've been with the company for close to six years and I don't know any of this kind of stuff."

_Six years? I make your six years look like playtime, buddy._

"Correction. You _were_ with the company. You quit the moment this thing left Junon."

He seems surprised by my words, looking away and pondering this. I honestly don't care what he does, so long as he stops prying into my personal business for more than five minutes. Regardless, it offers a brief few moments of quiet that allow me to focus on keeping Shinra away from us.

"Goddamn reactor," Barret growls from the head of the bridge where Cid's managed to set up a small attempt at a table out of an overturned crate and spread a crumpled map across it.

"Yeah, well like it or not, this huge materia is in there somewhere," the grizzled old pilot snaps and produces a pen from his shirt pocket.

"I ain't saying it ain't, but how in the hell are we gonna get to it?"

Cid doesn't even dignify that with a look as he jots something down on the map. "I thought you were well-versed in reactors."

"This ain't Midgar."

If it wasn't for the fact that Cid is the designated leader at the moment, Vincent and Red would probably be breaking up a physical fight right now.

"Your point?"

Barret crosses his arms and glares. "I ain't looking forward to going in blind. That just don't make any sense."

"In case you haven't noticed, not a whole lot does make sense right now," Cid continues to look over the map. "This is _your_ reactor. I expect that since you not only saw the plans for it and have played in these things before, you would at least know something about it."

Barret nearly kicks the crate, towering over the airman. "You ain't got no right to bring that into this!"

"Children," Red says from his spot by the console. "Please."

"He ain't got no right to bring that up!"

Vincent's eyes cut to Barret in warning. "Actually, he does. He is the one in charge."

"That don't mean nothing!"

"It means everything. I suggest that if you _do_ know anything, now would be a good time to start talking. Otherwise, go away and let us figure this out."

Barret mumbles something about tossing Vincent off of the ship, which elicits one of the stoic man's death glares. It's halfhearted though, as though he doesn't really want to put the effort into arguing with Barret right now.

"Alright," Cid slams a hand against the map and looks up. "All this tension's giving me a headache. If you can't shut your damn mouths and let me concentrate, then get off my goddamn bridge. You," he points to Barret. "Go for a walk or something. Stay the hell away from anything important looking though. You two," he points to Vincent and Red. "Stay here and help me figure this out. Any arguments and it's straight to the brig with all of ya."

"We have a brig?" the pilot-in-training asks.

Cid glares. "You wanna see it too?"

"No sir." The pilot-in-training turns back to his wheel.

"That's what I thought." He looks back to Barret. "I thought I told you to leave."

"Don't I got a right to hear the plan?" Barret crosses his arms stubbornly.

"I'll send the cat to come get you when we _have_ a plan."

Red glares, or as much of a glare as he possibly can, over the words.

"Now go away," Cid turns back to his map and drags the pen across it.

Barrel scowls at him and turns away. Heavy footsteps slam against the metal floor. He grumbles under his breath, absolutely seething at being kicked off of the bridge. There is a loud clang as his foot collides with the side of the console. The screens flicker. Chip nearly knocks me over in the mad scramble to get away from the danger zone. I mentally cringe but don't look up.

"And don't go hurting my ship either," Cid warns.

A hand slams down on top of the console. The screen flickers once again, flashing a little warning this time that if this happens again, it's going to make me input those codes all over again. It takes more restraint than it should to keep from reaching over that console, drawing him eyelevel and telling him to knock it the hell off.

Barret turns as though about to say something to Cid, but thinks better of it at the last second. Metal rattles under his feet as his footsteps resume. He storms by the console and a few seconds later there is a heavy crash as the door slams shut.

"How'd you do that?" Chip asks in a shaky whisper.

"Do what?" I glance at him. He's visibly trembling, pale and looks like he's about to faint from terror.

His eyes wander to the door. "Him," he says. "You didn't even flinch."

"I've met scarier," is the answer. And I have. Barret's got nothing on…Veld.

"You're kidding."

I shake my head. "Believe me I wish I was."

"Can I ask who?" I swear his curiosity is going to be the death of him.

I pin him with a half-glare. "No."

The words are not open to debate on discussing any of my dealings with that man and Chip seems to know it, because he does this sort of odd shying away from me and goes back to his half of the console, not bothering me again.

For several hours we fly in near silence, speaking to each other only when we're exchanging information on the projected flight path. Before long, Cid's pilot-in-training has unceremoniously planted us awkwardly in a valley just on the outskirts of the Corel Mountains.

"Alright," Cid takes one last look at the map and returns the pen to his pocket before addressing us all. "Ya'll better keep your goddamn wits about you while I'm away. We'll only be gone for a few hours. This ship better be in one piece when I get back. Got that?"

We nod to show him that we understand.

"Good." He walks across the bridge and vanishes through the double doors without another word.

Vincent begins to follow, but slows by our console. Chip quivers under the man's gaze. He doesn't seem to care too much about him though and instead looks at me.

_Don't get too heavily involved in anything. We'll probably need your help, _his gaze says. I tip my chin ever so slightly to tell him that I understand. He returns the nod and walks away. Once he's gone, Chip gives me a look.

"You're right. _He's_ far scarier."

I nod only to stem the questions before they can even begin. Chip stretches his arms over his head and checks his watch. "You think you can handle things for a few minutes? I have to check some things with James down in the conference room."

"Go," I tell him. "I'll be fine here."

He smiles and takes his leave. I glance at the radar screen, simply enjoying the quiet and trying to collect my thoughts. Somehow I have to teach him how to do this sort of thing. Next stop will no doubt be Condor and once I'm there, I won't be around here to play with the hounds like this.

Several hours later, there is a soft padding of paws. When I look in their direction, I find myself in an unintentional staring contest with one golden eye.

Red flicks his tail back and forth. "Forgive me if I'm being intrusive, but what's the deal with you and Vincent?"

I blink. "Beg pardon?"

"You two seem a little…closer than I would expect." The way he says it holds a little more than casual curiosity.

Oh no. Does he think—I scowl. "We're acquaintances. Nothing more. Nothing less."

Red blinks and flicks his tail again. "It just seems odd. Vincent rarely warms up to anyone. Even Yuffie has a difficult time getting on his good side and that's only because he sort of got stuck with her and feels obligated to put up with her. You, however, seem to have no trouble dealing with him."

I continue to scowl. If only he knew about Vincent and I's first meeting. Trouble doesn't even begin to describe it. "I've dealt with people like him before."

Red nods. "More of your kind?"

"You could say that."

"Another thing I'm curious about." He's staring at my eyes now. I can't tell if he's genuinely curious or trying to back me into a corner. "What do you intend on doing from here?"

I continue to look at him, not really in the mood for this conversation. With as many times as this question's been asked of me, the answer is almost beginning to feel rehearsed.

"You already know the answer to that."

"Have _you_ considered staying though?" he asks and glances at the radar screen briefly. "You seem like a very intelligent young lady. Smart enough to realize what's going on here."

"And you seem like one of the smartest creatures aboard this ship," I cross my arms across my chest. "Vincent's already tried recruiting me and I turned it down."

The cat-like creature appears almost amused for a split second, though it's really hard to tell with him. "And yet, you're standing right in front of me aboard the Highwind of all places despite that."

"It's a fair trade," I say. "I need to get to Kalm. This just happens to be the option I was presented with. You needed someone tech savvy. I needed a ride. It's not the hardest situation to figure out."

"You'd stay if you could though," he says matter-of-factly.

"Maybe I would. Maybe I wouldn't."

"You would," he says again.

"Oh yeah? And what exactly makes you think that?"

"Because that's what _you_ want."

"You have no idea what _I_ want," I try to keep my voice from moving into threatened territory. Picking a fight with a creature faster and stronger than me is not the smartest situation to be in right now.

Again, he looks amused. "I've seen a lot of your kind," he says. "But I've never seen one who stubbornly refuses to acknowledge the truth as much as you seem to. You may dress like them, act like them, serve their master, but you're not comfortable _being_ one of them."

My fingers dig into the fabric of my flight uniform.

"I may be 'just an animal,'" he says. "But you can't hide it from me. You don't _want_ to go back to them. You feel that you _have_ to though, even if it's not in your best interest."

His eye is narrowed with that knowing look about him. "That is why you would stay."

This time, I'm at a loss for what to say in response to his words. What he says is true and nothing I say will be able to change that.

"Think on it," he continues. "You know which side you want to be on."

My PHS vibrates in my pocket, startling me. Red flicks his ears forward, interested. Thankful for the distraction, I retrieve the phone and flip it open.

"_We have a situation." _The message reads, from Yuffie's phone. Vincent must have swiped it from her before he left.

I quickly type a response. _"What kind of situation?"_

The response is my phone vibrating with a phone call almost instantly.

"What's wrong?" I ask.

For a moment, the loud clanging and banging of steel and pistons is all that can be heard.

"_Goddamn it,"_ Cid cusses in the background.

"_Well figure this out!"_ Barret shouts. _"We're gonna crash right into Corel!"_

That doesn't sound good at all.

"_What do you know about locomotives?"_ Vincent quickly and sternly asks.

Locomotives? I quickly begin trying to recall what little I was taught about them, which isn't much more than the barest of the basics.

"What do you need to know?" I quickly begin typing in the codes to access the satellite maps of the Corel Mountain rail system. A small light pings about fifteen miles outside of Corel.

"_How to stop one,"_ Vincent says, an edge of what sounds like perplexed fear inching into it. Damn. My fingers fly over the keyboard, trying in vain to access the controls of this train to see if I can do anything. Looks like it's not one of the newer ones.

"_Son of a bitch,"_ Cid again cusses.

"_What the hell you doing!"_ Barret nearly screams. _"I thought you was a pilot!"_

"_I am a pilot damn it! Not a goddamn conductor!" _

Conductor. There's only one person who can help me in this situation.

"Vincent, give me thirty seconds."

"_Make it twenty,"_ is the reply.

I keep a wary eye on the train moving through the mountains and quickly put Vincent's line on hold, dialing a familiar number.

"Come on," I growl. "Answer your phone."

"_Hello?"_ Reeve's exhausted voice answers.

"Reeve," urgency floods my voice. "Good. I need a favor right this second."

"_Cissnei? What's wrong?"_

"Trains, how to stop the one going through the North Corel Mountains right this second."

"_Huh?"_ there is a shuffling sound. _"Slow down. What?" _

"You heard me. In a couple of minutes one of your trains is about to wipe out what remains of Corel."

If he wasn't awake already, that certainly woke him up.

"_Which one?" _

I glance at the screen, trying to read the information flashing across it. "Engine 641A."

"_The reactor one?" _

_No, Reeve, the mysterious ghost one that roams the mountain tracks at night_. "Yes, that one!"

"_Okay, calm down. It's a manual control system."_ The typing of computer keys on his end. _"Real simple."_

"That doesn't help me, Reeve." The little dot churns closer to Corel.

"_Two levers and a pull switch,"_ he says curtly. _"Pull both back at the same time and then the switch. Should slow her right up." _

"Thanks," I flip back to Vincent's line. "See those two levers and that switch? You need to pull them both back and then the switch."

"_We'll do our best,"_ Vincent says, as though not really convinced this is going to work.

In the background, I can hear him trying to explain this to Cid and Barret.

"_I tried the goddamn levers. Only made it faster!" _

"_Other way,"_ Vincent growls.

There is a loud clang and a series of cuss words.

"_Pull the goddamn switch!"_ Cid shouts.

"_I'm going! I'm going!"_ Barret responds.

Another clang and a violent shriek. For several long seconds all that can be heard is the grinding of wheels against the track. I watch the little dot glide to a halt directly over Corel. Steam hisses.

The possibilities, each more gruesome than the last, play through my mind on just what that could mean.

Someone gives a low whistle. _"Couldn't do that again if we tried." _

"_We ain't trying that again!"_ Barret snarls at the pilot. _"Almost got us killed!"_

"_Calm down,"_ Cid says almost casually. _"No one's dying today. Well I'll be damned, looks like we either have a hero's welcome or a lynching mob."_

Barret grumbles something I can't make out.

"_Well don't just stand there, go see what they want. We'll be with ya in a few. Gotta find that huge materia first." _

More grumbling and the thud of footsteps retreating.

"_We owe you one,"_ Vincent says.

"Don't thank me," I tell him. "Thank Reeve. He's the one who helped stop your train."

"_We'll remember that."_ He says.

I hang up the PHS and stare at the blinking dot on the screen. I don't even want to admit how that could have turned out.

"My point's proven. No matter how hard you try, you'll never just walk away from all this." Red shakes his head and makes a sort of gesture to the remainder of the bridge with his muzzle. Without saying anything more, he turns away, padding back to his spot by the console, leaving me alone at my console with my thoughts.


	60. Casting Doubts

**(Crawls out from stack of work stuffs looking like a disheveled wild woman) I'm alive! I really did have intentions of getting this update to you folks much earlier than it is. It's been what, like six months or something since the last one? I totally lost count while tunneling out from the avalanche of work that fell on me. Between my real job, all the new additions to the baby farm animal roster, something called World of Warcraft (long story on how THAT happened to me) and that little known thing called Project ASitS (the original non-fan fiction novel I'm sinking my free time into) things have been pretty much backed up when it comes to these things.**

**I simply can't thank you wonderful fans enough that you've put up with my MIA status so far. You've all been more than supportive and absolutely fantastic with your patience and thoughtful PMs to see how I've been doing from time to time. Fear not, the fic is NOT abandoned, just delayed. Good news though. This should be the last dialogue heavy filler before we actually move the story into the arc I've waited a good year to step into. (Which many of you will thoroughly enjoy as it features some characters a lot of people have forgotten about and overlooked.)**

**That said, I really hope you do enjoy this short chapter and I will start work on the next update as quickly as I can. : ) **

**Chapter Sixty – Casting Doubts**

People are too happy sometimes.

I'm not saying they shouldn't be happy, or that they don't have reason to celebrate the latest feather in AVALANCHE's proverbial cap, but it just doesn't _feel_ like much of a substantial victory that will make even a minor dent in anything.

Meteor is still up there, steadily churning towards our world and much as I'd like to believe that a combination of these specialized, Huge Materia that Shinra is after will help things, I'm not entirely sold on it.

What Cid and his crew brought back wasn't half as impressive as Gast's old files claimed it to be. Normal materia at least gives off a sort of sensation that someone well versed in materia usage can easily pick up the closer they are to it. The rough, clunky green crystallized Huge Materia they were holding out for everyone on the bridge to see though, didn't do that.

It just looks like some dull, boring, normal rock.

No one needs to tell me that looks can be deceiving. I'm more than aware of that phrase and have personally experienced it. And Gast's records were thin at best on the actual _usage_ of such materia. _He_ wasn't even sure how to use it. So how AVALANCHE is going to figure it out in a few days, if that, doesn't exactly make me terribly confident at this point.

I rest my elbows on the lower deck's railing and glance up at the fiery menace in the sky. It's bigger than it was this morning. The light is brighter. The sky is redder. Even the ocean we're flying over right now makes that sludgy rust color it was the other day more appealing than the black it's rapidly becoming.

"You have doubts," Vincent's voice creeps through the chilly wind moving over the deck as the Highwind cuts over the ocean towards Condor.

I cast him a half-glance but don't turn to face him. "Tell me why I shouldn't."

He moves closer and joins me at the rail. Neither one of us look at each other, instead, looking up at Meteor.

"I have them too," he says, his words lacking their deadpan, stoic nature. These words are softer, more honest, almost…afraid. Not the fearful, 'hide under the table and hope for the best' sort of afraid, but the 'this might have been a mistake' kind. "You're well versed in materia usage, am I correct?"

"Ice is my specialty," I tell him. "But I can use pretty much anything that's available in a hurry if I must."

He nods. "You didn't sense anything, did you?"

He's using a pretty standard practice we Turks like to call 'fishing.' We'll talk back and forth, exchanging information, reaching conclusions and trying to figure out and confirm our own thoughts on things.

Or as Reno always puts it, he's trying to figure out if it was 'just him' who thinks this whole thing is a sham or if it's widespread.

"No. Did you?"

"I didn't either."

I sigh. "I guess I just set my expectations too high."

"You should know better."

"Yeah," I glare at the Meteor to avoid glaring at him. "No need to give me the lecture, I've heard it enough times to know the whole deal. 'Don't be sure of the outcome until you finish the mission.' 'Don't expect things to be easy.' 'Being sure of anything breeds foolishness.' Trust me, if it can be a ridiculing lecture on doing something wrong, I've heard it."

He smirks. "I wonder what he would say about your performance record now."

"Best case, less than satisfactory. I don't want to think about worst case." Not that Verdot would have even considered being remotely pleased about any of this right now. Kind of makes me glad that it was under Tseng's rule this happened instead of his. Because, I know I wouldn't be standing here right now if it was anyone else in charge.

"I think he'd be impressed," Vincent's words catch me off-guard.

I want to ask him if he's insane on that one because I'm pretty sure that's not the same Verdot I knew.

"Doubtful," I try not to frown. I came out here to be alone, not to end up talking about someone I didn't get along with too well when I was a Turk.

"You don't give yourself enough credit sometimes," he says, still looking at Meteor. "It takes great skill to actually practice the skills you've learned. And greater skill to adapt those into new ones. He'd be proud of that."

My fingertips press against the steel railing. "Honestly, I couldn't care less what anyone thinks at this point. I'm just doing what I have to do to scrape by and stay alive."

He nods. "Business in Kalm?"

"The priority-level kind." Like making sure the lead bitch of weapon's research doesn't get there first and that two innocent people don't get killed over something that isn't their fault.

"You won't be accompanying us to Condor then." It's not a question, but a quiet thought.

"You'll be fine without me." Condor's full of intelligent people and if they took advantage of the map I gave them, Scarlet's little siege crew shouldn't have much to fight with while Condor does. Should buy AVALANCHE the time they need to bargain for the Huge Materia there before hunting down the other two pieces.

He looks at me. "The offer to join AVALANCHE is always open to you."

"I'm aware. But, you of all people should understand," I release the railing and shove my hands into the pockets of my flight maintenance jacket, turning toward the heavy metal doors and look over my shoulder with a knowing smirk back at him. "Once a Turk, _always_ a Turk. And you can't _not_ cross paths with them again."

"Indeed, that is true." He shakes his head but I can tell he's amused by the words. "I'll cover your 'escape' from the Highwind when we arrive. You're owed that much at the very least."


	61. Minor Details

**Wow, well, hey, at least ya'll didn't have to wait a full 6 months this time for an update. The Muse did finally pry herself out from under her work pile. Just temporarily though, but hey, even one update is better than no updates at least. I'm a little more confused about the world having completely changed while I was tunneling out from the work pile. (Seriously, I have no idea what this cover image deal is about or why it is annoying me so much and since I'm not exactly artistic enough on the drawing aspect to create any decent art for the fics' cover images, I now have to apologize that my profile page avatar is the cover image by default. I'm so sorry about that folks.) But, that aside, after this update, we'll finally be in Kalm, where some old faces return and lots of fun stuff happens. In the meantime, I hope you enjoy this update. : ) **

**Chapter Sixty One – Minor Details**

A quick check of the PHS tells me it's a little before dawn when the Highwind enters Condor territory. If things were normal, I'd still have about a half hour before the sun would be peeking over the horizon. But things are far from normal and it's just as bright outside right now as it would be at high noon.

Fortunately, the members of AVALANCHE don't seem to care one way or another and are fast asleep until Cid's pilot-in-training either plows the ship into the ground or some other annoying rookie mistake wakes everyone up.

"But, you can't just leave me here with the guys!"

Well, _most_ of them are asleep…

I fold the Highwind uniform that was loaned to me and set it on the neatly made bed, not looking at Yuffie as she practically hovers over my shoulder hissing whispers and trying to convince me why I absolutely need to stay onboard with Team AVALANCHE.

"You'll be fine."

"But they're _so_ boring," she whines. "All Red does is lie around all day sunning himself and Vincent ignores me."

"Says the 'World's greatest ninja' who spends every waking hour huddled above the engine room airsick." I can't help but tease.

"I can't help it!" she stops short of stomping a foot against the metal floor. "I get airsick."

I finish buttoning my worn blazer and straighten my tie out of habit. "Best cure for that is actually learning to move around the ship while it flies. Do it enough times and it won't bother you anymore."

"I can't do that though."

"Sure you can. You just don't want to."

She scowls. "But it's stupid. I get airsick."

"At first, but it works."

"And how would you know anyway?"

"Look," I sigh. "I used to get motion sick pretty much on anything that moved. Boats were the worst. And in case you don't already know, my job required plenty of global travel, be it by boat, train, chocobo, flying, or the old fashion method called walking. Best solution was to wander around and keep your mind off of it. Do it long enough and you become immune to being motion sick."

"See?" she gets that hopeful borderline squeak in her voice. "This is why we need you around here! You're good at fixing things. That and," she plants her back against the wall, arms crossed, glaring at the floor. "I was kind of hoping I'd at least have someone to talk to, you know, about girl stuff."

I stare at the folded Highwind uniform for a few seconds, in silence before my eyes drift to Rekka lying beside it.

"We need you," she says. "I can't do the things you can do and Vincent's nicer when you're around. You _have_ to stay. Please?"

"_Listen, Yuffie," _I address her in Wutainese. _"You've got talent, but your lack of discipline sometimes overshadows it. It's not an easy fix, but I know with a little bit of work and some guidance, you'll be a greater distance fighter than you are now and they'll respect you for it."_

She continues glaring at the ground with that stubborn look like she's heard this all before.

I swing Rekka over my shoulder and turn to face her. _"Besides, I've always wondered what it would be like to have a student in my weapon art."_

Her eyes are wide and she gives me this look caught somewhere between disbelief and absolute shock. She doesn't immediately say anything, just stares, as though trying to put her thoughts into words and looking like an excited little kid during the holidays.

"_Are you serious?" _

I smile. _"The offer is open if you want it, but only on the condition that I can finish my current missions first. They're kind of more important at the moment."_

"_That seems fair." _She nods. If it wasn't for the fact that everyone aboard the ship except some of the working crew are asleep, she'd probably be whooping and hollering excitedly about this.

Gaia have mercy on my soul for even offering.

"_Good." _I walk past her. _"Keep practicing while I'm away. Even a little bit of improvement will go a long way. And please, show some respect for your weapon. If you don't take good care of it, it won't take care of you."_

She gives me a sheepish look, more than likely not expecting me to have noticed the poor upkeep, most notably, the _rust_, of that thing she calls a shuriken.

Mercifully, she doesn't follow and I escape easily to the lower deck without anyone even noticing. Cid will when he finds out one of his navigators is MIA, but I'm sure Vincent will explain the situation to him and keep it all under wraps so no one is any wiser. Besides, Chip should be capable of handling the ship until I get back.

Until I get back…I shake my head. _If_ is a better word. It's not like I plan on going out of my way or anything to come back here…

_You're a terrible liar, _my inner watchdog snipes.

Maybe so, but I don't care. There is work to be done and I made promises that I have to keep right now. And none of them involve piddling around on the Highwind.

It takes a good half hour for Cid's weary pilot-in-training to find a suitable valley for the Highwind. And out of all of Condor's choicest locations, he settles on the one closest to Junon territory.

Reno would have a glorified fit, hand gestures and all if he saw his dream piece of aviation being plopped down in the middle of a briar patch. After all, by his logic, one does not simply park their craft in briars, rivers, or anything that has trees unless they're either showing off for the rookies or it's a legitimate about-to-be crash site.

I can't help but smirk at the acres and acres of thistles, thorns, and overall misery. Ideal cover, certainly, but I'm kind of sort of glad I won't be around to hear the whining this will spawn.

After all, from this area to Condor is more than a bit of a hike. Not that my trip will be much better. It's a _long_ walk to Kalm, but at least the only whining there will be my own.

When the Highwind is successfully parked, I make my way to the ground, thankful when both feet are once again anchored on solid earth. I don't bother to take even the slightest look back at the mighty airship once I've snapped a quick picture of it in the briars and sent it along to Reno just for the hell of it.

Before anyone stirs, I'm well into the thorny plains, grass more than head high and making my way towards Condor.

An hour into it, the sky turns a darker shade of the terrifying blood red it's been since Meteor's appearance. A cold, hot wind crosses the plains, making the thinning, dry grass sway in fear. I clutch Rekka, slow down and listen.

Something rustles far to my left. A shiver creeps down my spine at the possibilities of what could be out here with me. Nothing I couldn't handle, but if it's a pack of those mutated Kalm fangs it could become a problem.

The rustling continues, moving several feet before stopping and starting again. I listen for any sounds of muzzles sniffing around or paws stirring up the dirt. A harsh scratching sound fills the air, moving closer and drawing back.

A cold tingle goes through my fingers as I ready Rekka. It sounds like a larger animal. Maybe even another alpha sort.

More shuffling continues, this time waiting longer between pauses. But it doesn't leave completely. Never leaves, just keeps its distance.

Almost like it's lost or something.

Baby then. Maybe it's a baby that was separated from its mother. If that's the case, she'll be looking for it and is probably somewhere behind me.

I don't look back and move forward in an attempt to put some distance between me and it.

The shuffling increases, definitely moving closer.

The grass shifts into a much lower segment of the plains, welcoming me out of the thorn mountain valleys and back onto the Condor plains. The shuffling sound is further behind me, but I can't help but crouch down in the grass and wait just to see what the hell it belongs to. Sure didn't sound quiet enough to be a Kalm fang, or any sort of predator.

The sound hesitates only briefly before stumbling out of the tall grass and I get a good look at it.

There is no way in Hades, on Gaia, or even in the Lifestream that I am seeing what I am seeing right now.

He's scruffier than he looked a few days ago. And his feathers are ruffled to the point where he almost looks like the sad little birds you see at Chocobo Billy's kiddy rides. But he's got that look about him that just tells the story of an animal that made a valiant attempt to find his way back to whatever he considers home, and ended up roaming the countryside aimlessly.

I'm kind of sort of impressed that WEAPON didn't eat him between now and then.

Calmly getting to me feet, I watch the chocobo take a few steps into the shorter grass and nose around for anything tasty to eat. His rope bridle drags in the dust and he clicks his beak with a frustrated, yet, easily content sounding wark.

I can't help but stare at the animal.

He raises his head and looks back at me. Both of our eyes meet and it doesn't take long before the scruffy little bird is nosing my pockets and grabbing at my auburn hair playfully.

"Hey there, boy." I reach up and scratch his neck. "Sorry I didn't come back for you."

Whether or not he even understands what an apology is or not is a different story, but he doesn't seem at all to care about that. Still though, he must have some shred of intelligence in that brain of his, to be out here of all places and not lying as a carcass somewhere.

"Looks like you wanna go home too, eh buddy?" I adjust his bridle and for a brief moment, it crosses my mind on just what is considered home for a chocobo or myself. "How about you do the walking and I'll do the steering?"

The bird warks and nips at my shoulder. I reach into my pocket, finding a few, dried and crumbling greens that flake in my hands. "Sorry boy. Not much food for you right now."

He pecks at my hand, not seeming to care about that either, and the dry greens are gone in an instant. His beady little eyes watch me and he doesn't run off like he should. Then again, he's not exactly one to do that sort of thing it seems.

_You may have yourself a problem here… _That little voice mocks.

"If I ride back to Kalm, I'm stuck with you forever, aren't I?" While I've always secretly dreamed of owning my own chocobo. It wasn't exactly possible being a Turk. You can't have them above the plates and there just wasn't enough time to keep after an attention starved bird with our schedules.

_You know what's going to happen here, don't you?_

Oh just shut up already. I scowl, the bird's reins wrapped around my hand. He hasn't moved, seemingly content to stand right there and give me the stare.

"You're lucky the world may end in a few days, Ardun." I flinch at the fact that I've just given the animal a name. "Because right now and for the rest of the foreseeable future, I'm homeless and unemployed. A few days of foraging is the best I can do to keep you fed until we figure something out."

He warks and continues to nose my pockets.

"Eh," I smile. "Minor details. Come on. Let's go finish my missions and then watch the fireworks."

I climb onto the bird's back and cue him onward at a brisk pace. I'd be lying if I ever admitted to not missing him, at least a little bit.


	62. Fire and Ice

**Hey there folks. Again, sorry about the wait for new updates. (Those of you who wrote again to make sure I wasn't eaten by gnomes, I appreciate the concern.) Never a dull moment for this Muse fortunately and thanks to you all and your wonderful support (and patience!) I'm finally in the arc that I've been excited about for a good year now. It's not fair for me to take all of the credit though, as a good friend of mine loaned me the wonderful input from her totally awesome SOLDIER muse to help me capture the following scene. She's also been incredibly involved in helping me with the upcoming chapters (and you'll all see why) as she has written some beautiful SOLDIER pieces and dabbles in some underappreciated characters. So, if you get the chance, I'd suggest for some beautiful SOLDIER pieces, head over to labrat-seph's page and check 'em out folks! That said, enjoy the latest update and I'll try to have something special written for the 4 year anniversary of the fic. (Yes, it's almost been four years already!) Enjoy. ALSO, language warning for this chapter. Yes, some foul language is used, so if that offends you, please don't hate me too much, there just wasn't a better way to put certain things. Thanks for understanding!) **

**Chapter Sixty Two – Fire and Ice**

We make Kalm in record time.

I scratch the chocobo's neck, offering him the remnants of the greens in my pocket, which isn't enough to keep him terribly happy for long, but either way, he seems pleased to have them. Not that I can blame him. He did beat feet from Condor Territory, through the mines, the marsh, and then the wasteland in a little under a day without throwing me off.

That alone makes him worth keeping.

The bird clicks his beak and nips at my shoulder.

"You stay here." I let his reins fall against the dead ground just outside Kalm's shielding wall. He's not close enough to the entrance for anyone to see, let alone steal, but with the apocalypse on the doorstep one can't be too careful.

Ardun gives me his dumb look and ruffles his feathers.

"I'll take that as agreement. Be good, okay? I'll be back for you this time."

He warks the closest thing to a whine I've ever heard, but doesn't follow. A few steps later, I hear him fold his legs under him and drop to the ground with the chocobo equivalent of a groan.

Rekka in hand, I slink along the wall towards the entrance. Meteor is doing me no favors today, flooding the entire village with noon-level daylight despite it being well after midnight. But something feels off about the vibrant little village.

No one is outside. Every window is bolted shut and it's lethally quiet. Tire tracks have scuffed the ground where Scarlet's infamous convoy trucks rolled through. I move into a building's shadow and look to the tower building across town where I last left Marlene and Elmyra.

That street is too narrow for heavy artillery to actually reach, but that doesn't mean that witch won't storm every building in this town until she gets what she wants.

My pace quickens. The sooner I find them, the better.

_What if you're too late already?_ My inner watchdog warns, neither of us really wanting an answer to that. I drive her back with a mental growl of my own. We're not too late until we're too late. That's how it's always been and I'm not changing good old-fashion Turk advice because Scartlet's already got people here.

I slip past another old building and chance an alleyway shortcut. My senses jump to alarm, well-trod boots clicking over the cobblestones a few feet behind me. There, a smaller garage building's shadow.

My eyes narrow. That stride…He's not one of the village inhabitants. Not Turk either. No. I've heard this one before.

My pace slows and I hear his heavy steps hesitate. Yes, definitely familiar but the where eludes me still. I clutch Rekka, fingertips working the cold steel under them. I'm being followed. One of Scarlet's pets likely. Strong. Quick on his feet. Likely keyed in physical combat specialties.

SOLDIER.

Halting in the cold morning air, I chance a look to my left and right. Sorry, Marlene, Elmyra, but this takes priority right now. The streets are extremely narrow here, leading into the marketplace and not favorable for combat.

I like my odds.

"I don't appreciate being followed." I hold Rekka up, keeping my back to my target deliberately.

A minute passes and I hear him take a single step closer. "What are you doing here, Lapdog."

Yep. SOLDIER. He's a bold one. I'll give him that much. Not many of Scarlet's 'pets' actually step closer to a Turk. Especially one who knows he's standing right there in the shadows.

I keep my eyes fixed ahead. There's a 'shoot to kill on sight' policy for wanted fugitives, especially ones who make her look bad in the public eye. So why isn't this one taking full advantage of that?

_He's either scared, or smart_. Scared makes him any one of thousands of possible SOLDIERs. Smart? Narrows the field to a handful I've likely met before. Still, he might not even recognize me as anything more than a routine Turk assigned to Kalm.

Last thing I really need is for him to see the faint, albeit obviously present glow in my eyes that pretty much marks me as Scarlet's target.

"I should be asking the same of you, Warhound."

I hear his uniform rustle, careful strides stalking closer.

"But you're not. So answer Turk."

Very few of Scarlet's pets dare to provoke Shinra's pedigree watchdogs. And the ones who do, well, _they're_ no long around to relate the experience to their comrades. Still though, this one seems different. I've met him before. That much I'm sure of. The voice doesn't seem familiar, but the way he moves is.

It bothers me.

Past encounter or not, he can't keep following me. Elmyra and Marlene's lives depend on that and the sooner I lose the warhound, the better, for everyone's sakes.

"Business."

"No shit." Good, he's frustrated. "Don't need you here lapdog. Warhounds can take over where you prissied up watchdogs fucked up."

Whoa, someone's angry this morning. I smirk. Good. The angrier he gets, the more likely he is to mess up and either say something he shouldn't, or downright back himself into a corner. Either I can contend with. But the way he says it stirs my instincts into overdrive.

He shouldn't be addressing me as a Turk, but a fugitive. Especially given "shoot to kill" orders over Junon's clusterscrew of mess. Something's wrong here.

"I don't know what you're talking about."

A snort, deliberate and unconvinced. He continues to approach, stalking in the beginnings of a circling motion like most animals do when sizing up their competition.

"_Right_, Turk." He sneers. "And it's a cold day in Hades."

I catch a fleeting glint under his helmet. He keeps to the shadows playing across his dark purple uniform.

"First you fucked up with the president," he growls. Mako infused eyes glare coldly in challenge "Then you drop the plate to cover up the mess with AVALANCHE..."

Cold fire flares through my veins. Rekka is up, pointed at him instantly, only sheer discipline keeping it from being unleashed on him.

"You, sir, have absolutely no fucking idea what happened at Sector Seven."

He doesn't even flinch.

"No? So you're saying that Reno of the Turks _didn't_ drop the plate on a sector full of innocent people, killing even those that were topside? All because you couldn't deal with AVALANCHE from the inside?"

You son of a bitch…I curl my lip in a snarl. Rekka stings my hand.

"That's not true _lapdog_?"

"If only you _knew_ who issued those orders," I growl. "I won't deny Reno brought it down, but how _dare_ you assume you know _everything_ that happened there that day."

I'm beyond pissed. Who the hell is this man anyway? SOLDIER, yes. Mako, obviously.

_Don't let him get to you, _I tell myself. He's looking for a weakness and clearly found one. Don't let him exploit it to his advantage.

"The president," his eyes narrow, an intensifying mako glow hidden behind his helmet visor. "And like good little lapdogs, your lot followed them to the letter. No matter how many innocents were murdered that day."

He circles me again. "Typical Turk. Only care about your own hide."

"That's not true," I growl. "You weren't _there_ when it happened. You have no idea _what_ happened on that pillar before it went down. How dare you assume you know _anything_ about it."

He's thoroughly snared in Scarlet's lies. Probably spun them so well that her men are against every single Turk by now. Still, if he's supposedly this informed, when why isn't he attacking. Surely, he knows exactly who _I_ am.

"I know who was," he answers almost calmly. "And you were, _traitor_. You, Reno, your boss and the only people actively making a difference in the world."

A materia equipped on his bracer flares to brilliant crimson light.

Firaga. Fully mastered too.

"So I suggest you get the fuck out of my town and stay out." His covered eyes narrow dangerously. "First and last chance, _lapdog_."

A little part of me smirks at the title of "traitor." That much is true, against Shinra anyway. I eye the Firaga materia in his hand and feel Blizaga's familiar frigid ice creeping through my weapon and veins.

"I'll leave when I get what I came for."

"Like Hell." His right hand goes for his blade's hilt, pulling it from the plate over his shoulder in one swift motion.

Air erupts in molten flames, washing through the alleyway in a fiery avalanche. Ice erupts across Rekka, clashing against the heat. Burning steam warps a building's walls. My feet skip over hot cobblestone, spinning away from the slick blade that sends sparks hurtling high into the air where I was standing.

That's a Zack move…I flinch, spinning another curtain of ice to counter the intense heat. My eyes burn, the fire intensifying. Steel nips into a warped wall.

"I don't really want to fight you." I slip from range, deflecting another furious fire wave.

He snarls, vengeful and slams his blade down.

Rekka swings up, a shockwave painfully lashing my arms as I parry it. "I'm not here to hurt anyone."

The fire intensifies again, rolling up the building side and pouring from above, fueled by the more than familiar 2nd Class SOLDIER's rage.

"You just want to murder more innocent people," venom drips from his rabid words. "Just. Like. Zack!"

The shuriken rattles under the blade's assault, forcing me back several steps. Fiery sparks and ice tangle around us. Damn he's strong.

My legs shake, his entire weight coming down with the blade and fire. Ice burns through every vein, reinforcing the steel.

"We've killed a lot of people over the years," I snarl, arms trembling under the renewed force. "But we did not kill Zack! Scarlet's men did. _We_ tried to protect him!"

His powerful arms pull back, taking the blade with him and allowing only a split second for my feet to find a stronger stance before he lunges again, sword crying out for my blood.

"Liar!" He rabidly snarls, sword slashing, thrusting, striking at me.

"It's true." Ice knocks aside more flames. "He wasn't supposed to die. Cloud, him, I let them go twice, against orders."

"Traitor," he repeats, those lethal eyes terrifying.

He pulls the blade away from Rekka and swings at my midsection.

My weapon barely manages to block the fatal attack, but I feel the hot steel catch my upper left hip and knock me against a wall. Son of a bitch that hurts.

"Zack was my friend," I hiss, reaching for my pistol and flicking the safety off. I can't win this the honorable way. Innocent or not, he's not going to stop until I'm dead. "He didn't deserve to die. He actually understood us, tried to be friendly with us. And the last thing we ever wanted was his death!"

He bellows a war cry and brings the blade down.

I aim the pistol between Rekka's points, legs shaking at the pain, amber eyes looking directly into his.

The blade strikes the wood above my head. He stands over me, panting, leering down at me, growling.

"Part SOLDIER." He spits, words almost second guessing. Not sure if it's the fact that I've got a loaded pistol aimed right at him, or that I didn't pull the trigger.

"Not on your life, part or other." I keep my weapons between him and me. The battle has shifted. Whether I have the upper hand or not, I can't tell, but I've got some ground back. "I came here looking for someone, someone I can't let your kind find."

"My kind?" He chuckles darkly. "_My_ kind keeps innocent people out of _your_ kind's reach. Keeps them safe from disappearing into memory."

"I don't see it that way," I move the barrel slightly, warning him to step away. "If you really knew just what _your_ witch of a boss has in mind for the people I'm looking for, you'd have a very different outlook on this whole situation. _I'm_ here to help them. You're here no doubt to kill them."

A dark laugh makes its way through his lips and just as quickly fades.

"Scarlet can kiss my ass for all I care." His tone turns lethal again. "Them? You're after Elmyra and someone else."

"That's correct," I keep my words cautious. He knows Elmyra by name…That's not a good thing. But it's how he seems to feel about Scarlet that draws me in. That's not exactly respect in those words. Then again. SOLDIER. Enemy with a blade inches from my head right now. "I promised I would protect these people and I'll be damned if I let anything happen to them."

"I made one to keep Zack's loved ones safe." His eyes narrow.

Well, that explains some things. He's supposedly honoring a promise to Zack of all people. That means this man really is who I think he is.

I lower the shuriken completely, flinching at the wound, but don't take my eyes or the gun off of him. With Marlene involved, he still can't be trusted. If Barret ever found out his daughter was killed by a SOLDIER of all things, it would jeopardize everything we've fought for.

"And I made a promise to the leader of AVALANCHE."

"Family of his," he finally says.

"Yes," I challenge. "And if you intend on harming a child, I'll pull this trigger and not feel guilty, friend of Zack's or not."

My eyes roam to the blade, waiting. He has the advantage, a chance to land one fatal strike. Tseng would have a fit if he knew I pretty much gave this man the advantage. It's the quickest way to get killed. Still, I have his attention at least.

"I have family here." He says.

His voice is almost softer. His eyes studying me. The battle is far from over, seeing that this town is _his_ home stomping ground and _I'm_ the intruder. I won't blame him for that. If this was my home, I'd go out of my way to dispose of a 'threat' myself.

"I'm only here for the two people I'm protecting. With Scarlet around, this place isn't safe anymore and the sooner I get them away from here, the better."

"No," he says more firmly. "I have _family_ here."

"So?" My eyes narrow. "I'm not after _your_ family. They mean nothing to me. I'm after who I'm after."

"And so am I, lapdog." His hands having only slackened their grip on the heavy blade pull it away from the wood and raise it again, intentions to kill once again stirring back with the hints of fire in the air.

I move the pistol in warning and raise Rekka, almost leaning against the wall this time.

"If you kill me, you'll never find them before Scarlet does."

"The others won't be here until noon," he growls, blade still at the ready. "I don't plan on them still being in the city by then."

"Neither do I," I flinch. "But, again, I know where they are. You, sir, do not."

A moment of silence passes before he moves, the blade swinging downwards. Instead of hitting me though, it swings up and over his shoulder, once again resting it on his back.

He crosses his arms. "Get them out of here, but remember, Turk, you can't go to Midgar and Elmyra sure as hell isn't suited for long distance travel by foot."

Wait. What? Did I actually win? Something doesn't feel right.

I lower my shuriken completely and flick the pistol's safety back on before tucking it into its holster, never once taking my eyes off the SOLDIER.

"I'm well aware of those two things," I say. "Getting to this god-awful city was a nightmare with the two of them. Tell me, why are you stepping down?"

He nods and points up to the Meteor in the sky. "The sooner they aren't found here, the sooner we get back to Midgar." He pauses, thinking about something. "The Sister Ray has a new home and no doubt the head bitch in charge is itching to make sure she fires without any problems."

_If you're trying to bait me, at least put some better effort into it._ I scowl at the looming eyesore in the sky, understanding completely where he's coming from about that aspect. So the rumors that Shinra is going to take on the Meteor using the Sister Ray like Reno said are true after all.

I give him a curious glance. "No one just willingly gives information like that up without expecting something in return. Who are you really?"

"If what you say about Scarlet is true, well, I'm not her peon. Though I sure as fuck ain't Shinra's either and haven't been for a few weeks. Not since…" he looks away almost sadly. "Listen, just do what you have to do and get them out of here. Best you've got is another seven hours if that. I won't hold a search off any longer than that, understood?"

Wow, that was almost too easy. It'd be foolish not to take advantage of the information. At the same time, he's probably going to follow me, or at the very least, report my position to his superiors. Still though, it's a risk I don't have much choice but to take because I won't get a better deal. In a few hours, if that, this place will be swarming with soldiers.

I look towards him and nod. "I'll get them out of here. You have my word."

"Don't make me regret it, Turk." The SOLDIER turns and walks a few paces before stopping and glancing over his shoulder. "Send my regards to Mrs. Gainsborough."

"I'll make sure she knows. Zack's SOLDIER 2nd class friend, Kunsel was it?" I watch him flinch and can't help but smirk as I turn and begin backtracking my steps.

Not even halfway down the street, my phone vibrates in my pocket. I stop, looking back, finding the SOLDIER gone and the street war-torn and empty from our battle. The coast clear, I retrieve my phone and flip it open, every part of me going completely numb at the message.

_Message from Verdot: What a disappointing display, Jesshera. I expected better._


	63. Family Ties

**Okay, first, I would like to start by thanking everyone who has been reading the fic, those who have favorite it, left reviews, following it, and have favorite me as an author. It is amazing how kind you all have been. This chapter is special to me because it marks the fourth year I have been working on this particular sequel fic (as I post this, it will still be November 20****th**** my time. If I am a day late in other countries, sorry I didn't get this updated earlier today.) This update chapter also incorporates some very special characters (actual game-verse characters with names chosen via some RP friends) from the past who I felt needed a cameo in the plot and several of you who have eagerly been waiting, I really hope I don't disappoint you all. That said, thank you all very kindly for everything so far over the past four years and here's to many more updates in the future! **

**Chapter Sixty Three – Family Ties**

The message freezes me in place. Verdot. Here. In Kalm. The one man who is supposed to be dead, gone, out of my life forever sending oddly specific messages to a supposedly untraceable number.

I check and recheck the name to the number. Yes, that's the all too familiar number I remember from way back when he was in charge. And that's my very real, terrifyingly specific name he's using to address me by. Something he only ever used when he was beyond pissed at me about something.

Pretty sure my situation right now counts towards that.

Clutching Rekka, I look over my shoulder, half expecting him to be standing there.

Only an empty street. A shiver creeps through me. I have to get out of here. If Verdot is watching you, nowhere is safe and the likelihood of even getting Elmyra and Marlene anywhere just won't happen with him around.

The phone buzzes again, making me jump.

_Message from Verdot: No, Shiruken, I'm not behind you. You know better. _

Damn it all to Hades. I try to calm myself down and pretend the messages don't bother me. But it's nearly impossible. Keeping as still as possible, back to the wall, I glance around, finding only empty streets.

"You're losing your touch, Cissnei." The voice is cold, cynical and very much _not_ Verdot's but it sends a frigid chill down my spine.

I clutch Rekka tighter. It won't do me even one ounce of good against this one. He was, at the time, an extremely capable marksman, even greater than Tseng. And the fact that his fingers twitch against the handles of his twin handguns tells me straight off that he likely still is.

My weapon won't do anything against his. It's impossible. He couldn't have tracked me this far. He's 'retired' for god's sakes! And yet, I sense his presence in the shadows, dark blue eyes watching me.

"Sano," I dare to turn and face him a little part of me needing to see this to believe it. First Verdot nitpicking via PHS and now Two Guns himself.

Meteor seems to be bringing back a lot of dead people lately it seems.

"Back already." His tall frame stands casually beside the wall, hands resting against his gun holsters. Those dark blue eyes roam over me, studying and picking out every small tear in my uniform. "Not your smartest choice."

"It would seem not." It's inexcusable that not only one person—a SOLDIER no less—snuck up on me and wounded me already tonight. But for another Turk to trail me is just humiliating.

His calculating gaze continues to watch me and mercifully he doesn't draw his weapons. I don't want to do anything to bring that on me either and keep Rekka at my side to show I'm not here to even remotely be a threat to anyone.

"You realize you're lucky to be alive."

He doesn't know the half of it, but the look in his eyes tells me that blind eyes haven't been turned away from what I've been doing. Luck is still stretching it though. By all accounts, I'm not even sure how I'm still alive, but I am and that's not about to change in this town of all places.

I watch him, studying him. Just because he's been 'retired' for a solid five years doesn't mean I trust him, even if he was a friend once.

"I realize it. Why are you following me?"

"Commander's orders."

I should have known. If Verdot is roaming this territory, of course he'd decide to see what I'm doing. Now I really can't stay here much longer. Still, it should be some small comfort, not that I can expect help from him or even Sano for that matter. It makes things unreasonably difficult, but it's still something familiar.

"Cissnei," the hard look softens just a little, wind toying with his black hair. "You can't stay here long."

"I don't plan to."

_And definitely not when I know other watchdogs have their eyes on me._

A small nod from him.

"Wow, you really are a sight for sore eyes." Another voice, this one making me jump and turn immediately around to face the newcomer.

"Son of a bitch, Thomas," I growl at the blonde-haired man only slightly taller than myself.

He smirks, resting his nunchakus over his shoulders and rocks back onto his heels. "It's been a long time since I've been able to do that."

"Don't get used to it. I'm not staying." I try not to glare. This is just ridiculous now. At least Thomas is much friendlier than Sano. But still. Come on now.

"Not to Midgar I would hope. Things there are going to be more than hairy and word on the street is our favorite watchdog pup has been biting the head bitch of Weapon's Research's tail."

"Thomas," Sano warns, tilting his chin to remind the young man that we're all out in the open.

He shrugs. "Just wanted to hear it for myself. Shuriken tells the stories much better than some infantryman ever could. I've missed her."

I roll my eyes, somewhat at ease to be in the presence of the closest thing to 'family' I still have left. "I have more important things to do right now than bother with Scarlet."

She can wait until I get the two people I came here for to a safe place.

The words seem to suffice for Sano, who nods and checks his watch. "I have to report to the boss. Cissnei, I'll meet you at one of our safe points. They've changed since we 'retired' but Thomas knows them. Do not get into any more trouble between now and when I come to find you."

"Yes sir." I nod.

He turns and vanishes into the darkness, leaving me with the blonde young man.

Thomas waits until Sano is well on his way and makes a small gesture for me to follow.

"You made one hell of a mess in Junon." He glances over at me. "Kristen and Beatrice had money on it being you're handiwork. Well, Beatrice bet that you'd get yourself killed, but Kristen hedged the bets that you're too lucky and would somehow get out of there."

'Shotgun' and 'Martial Arts' are still around too? Small world lately. All we need is Lillian still around with those knives of hers and the old pack, the few of us who weren't confirmed dead and funerals attended for over the years is complete.

He's a fellow Turk, I tell myself. One of my old partners before Margaret was killed to be exact when I was stationed up in Modeoheim. He hated every second of that place and both of us gave him tons of grief about his whining.

Likely, he means me no harm, but even if I could run right now, Sano would likely be on my tail faster than I could get to Ardun. Old partner and friend or not, that nagging little part of me warns against following Thomas through the dark streets of Kalm.

"But you're still alive at least. Which is a good thing because we really were hoping you wouldn't decide to follow Gun, Katana, Rod, and Kristen's less than favorite Martial Artist male's examples."

_They have names, Thomas_. I scowl but let it slide. He always did have some trouble keeping everyone's names and code names straight sometimes smart as he is.

"Not that you would of course, but given the fact that you look like you've been foraging like a stray for a while, I shouldn't even really ask this, but do you have _anything_ left to your name, other than the clothes on your back, one piece of materia, and that shuriken I miss watching you throw around?"

"Not much." I finally give in and limp after him, the wound throbbing. I don't really feel like admitting it to someone like Thomas, who honestly never missed a meal let alone knows what it's like barely scraping by day to day, but it's hard to hide it from the older Turk that I'm hurting.

"What do you need?" He casually walks through the street as if the question is no big deal.

For this entire nightmare to be over, I want to say, but I don't and continue walking with my eyes fixed on the street in front of me. Honestly, I haven't thought much about that. There hasn't been much _time_ to.

"Goddesses you're still as stubborn as I remember you being," he scowls. "You always were and even the boss warned me about this, but there has to be something I can help with. I'm one of your old partners, Cissnei. Given the fact that until you ended up reassigned to Midgar way back when after Gun got killed, I don't remember ever giving you any reasons not to trust me at least."

Another scowl. "I have the entire Shinra military's cross-hairs on my back, Thomas. Do not assume that I'm the same person I was before taking the Fair-Strife case."

"Sheesh, I can tell. That doesn't mean I can't help though. I'm not Reno of course and I've been out of the actual ranks enjoying 'retirement' for a while now, but that doesn't mean I don't owe you some favors for saving my ass a few times. You only did file the paperwork declaring me 'deceased' and made sure no one could find the lot of us still around or be followed."

"Fine." I stop with a wince and look up at him. "I need a safe place to take two people, preferably where I know Scarlet won't get them."

Thomas gives me an odd look, as if I've just asked for the Meteor to go away or something. "You're asking for something that's damn near impossible."

"Yeah, well, welcome to my world right now."

"I never said it _was_ impossible though."

"You're one of the first then. Because I'm not too certain it can be done myself. But, somehow it needs to be."

It's not the first time I've questioned my sanity over a mission. This one especially, since I have solid evidence that the odds are beyond stacked against me to back it all up. Scarlet may not be smarter than me, but she's a formidable foe with a large pool of resources to work with.

And even if I do outwit the bitch of Weapons Research, Meteor's more than happy to finish the job. No matter what I do, it's a losing battle.

"You're planning on moving them today?"

"Why do you think I'm here, Thomas?"

"Okay, fair enough. How much time do we have to work with here?"

"Roughly six hours, assume less." Assuming the SOLDIER didn't lie to me of course. And that's a really big if. For all I know it could be less than an hour. But that's better than nothing because when the fires of hell come raining down on this city in the form of infantry and goddess knows whatever else Scarlet wants to throw at this, no one's going anywhere alive.

"Then we better move fast, Cissnei."

Best move fast my ass. I've done nothing but move fast in the last couple days. I don't even remember the last time I've actually slept because I've been trying to get back here.

"Though, we could just hide them here."

This seems easier given the heavy Turk presence that seems to have cropped up here of all places. Kunsel will likely expect me to take them somewhere, preferably out of the city to an unknown location. Then again, maybe not. He wasn't a stupid one. He'll assume I'll switch this and keep them here. Still, hiding them in city limits, pending anyone from the old portion of the pack will be willing to help, is nothing short of brilliant.

I give Thomas a look. "That would be the best course of action."

He nods, a fleeting smirk my response. "Sano should be coming to meet us at the safe point. He'll likely have an answer for you from the Commander."

Fantastic. I try not to let the dread show. The last person I want involved in this is Verdot of all people. But then again, when is he not involved. He is the Commander after all and unfortunately for me, he's still very much alive it would seem.

I should have stayed with AVALANCHE.

"Be ready to run though, just in case that meeting didn't go like we hope."

I offer a curt nod. Nothing's ever carved in stone with Verdot and given the fact that I haven't even asked for his, let alone any Turk help yet officially on my own accord, even the wrong flip of the proverbial coin could send everything to hell just like that. I've seen it happen before and dare not get any hopes, thin as they could ever be, up.

Still though, it could be helpful and much as I don't want to admit it, I'm desperate for anything to keep those two safe.

We walk through Kalm's back alleys until we reach the old cathedral. Never has a building looked so intimidating. I clutch Rekka and draw a sharp breath, trying to stave off that nagging feeling warning me that this isn't a good idea.

If whatever Sano was talking to Verdot about doesn't go well, there won't be much I'll be able to do. And with that man, you just don't know. I don't have even a fraction of the immunity someone like Reno always seemed to have and my one time comrades are more loyal to the Commander than they are Tseng even. If he tells them to 'deal with me' I won't be walking away from the fight alive.

They're technically 'family,' but it's been so long since I've been around them. Even Thomas seems like a stranger. I'm the outsider. A 'troublemaker.' Even if I could trust them, that would be a fatal flaw.

I shake my head. At this point, I don't have a choice in the matter.

Thomas doesn't seem bothered by it and pushes the door open. Hesitating, I follow into the darkness. It's cold inside the building. And dreadfully dark. This place lacks any and all warmth and I only manage a few steps down what I assume is an aisle before not wanting to continue any further.

I can see why they made this a safe point. I'm a trespasser, someone who doesn't belong in a church of all places. None of us Turks do. A little part of me feels like I'm being watched, judged even, and scorned for having the audacity to attempt such a feat.

Not even Meteor's light makes it through the covered windows here.

I hear Thomas shuffle closer, but the silence remains.

The soft click of the door being drawn open and then shut sends a cold chill down my spine some time later. I can't see him through the darkness, but Sano's heavy stride hasn't changed over the years.

"What's the verdict?" Thomas asks.

"She still has a family," is the answer.

"Yes!" Thomas stops short of cheering as if this is the best thing in the world. "Knew it."

I still have a family…The words are both haunting and comforting at the same time. They didn't decide to kick me out after all, despite the current happenings.

"Don't get too excited, Thomas," Sano warns. "There are a lot of things that need to be addressed yet. As for your two charges, Cissnei."

I can't help but lean slightly closer, hoping it's good news.

"We will be more than happy to look after them, if that's what you want us to do."

A little part of me isn't completely comfortable with the idea of leaving Elmyra and Marlene in the care of other Turks. Even if I trusted them with my life over the years, I can't help but feel like I've failed in some small way by not returning to them.

Elmyra will be pissed. She hates the Turks, courtesy of Tseng's dealings over the years. And I'm fairly sure I haven't made the situation any better. Hell, it took quite the show of force to convince her that I meant her no harm so that we could escape Midgar. To simply throw that fragile trust away by handing them over to complete and total strangers just seems wrong.

I'm breaking another promise to them, Marlene especially, but not returning to finish the mission. But the whole Shinra military is after me and a SOLDIER knows exactly what I'm doing here in town. They'll be hunting me worse now.

"It is," I say after a few moments of silence. "I'd welcome the help right now."

The least I can do is lure Scarlet and her hounds away from them. They won't be happy but I have a better chance of protecting them that way if they're not with me while I'm doing it.

"Then consider it done," Sano says and pulls his phone from his pocket. The subtle artificial glow casts a haunting glow throughout this portion of the cathedral. "Any special circumstances with them?"

"They need to be kept together," I tell him. "Mrs. Gainsborough's not exactly a fan of the Turks thanks to Tseng's harassment about her daughter all these years. Marlene's just a child. Neither one knows about Aerith's fate and I want to keep it that way, at least until this is all over."

Sano glances up from his screen briefly as if he's surprised himself about whatever happened to the Ancient. He finally closes the phone, after typing a no doubt lengthy set of instructions to Verdot regarding this new, inconvenience mission, and returns it to his pocket.

Darkness once again surrounds the three of us.

"Since you have a target on your back, we'll retrieve them. This isn't open for debate and you already know that, I'm sure."

I flinch at the words, glad he can't see me in the darkness. The watchdog in me longs to see this mission through, see myself that they reach the temporary safety of the watchdog pack to know they got there safely. But I can't bring myself to do it. Seeing them will make it damn near impossible to leave again.

Marlene will ask questions. Elmyra will chastise me about breaking another promise. And 'Jessie' would just simply say 'screw it' to the whole mission of going after Scarlet and choose to wait it all out in Kalm with them.

That cannot happen. I _need_ to be Cissnei for this mission.

It doesn't make the choice any less painful though. I've committed the cardinal sin of all Turks by becoming attached to them. _That_ fatal flaw damned Zack. I don't want that same fate to befall them. I won't admit it to Sano though, but I'm sure he's more than suspicious over what really happened there.

He knows how much trouble my emotional side gets me into instead of the cruel, cold logic I should be acting with.

"I know," I try to sound like I knew this was coming.

"Good. Anything that will make it easier to retrieve them?"

He's fishing for a password, anything to help stop a potential scene from being caused. And with Scarlet prowling it would be a catastrophe for any scenes right now.

"Tell her that Jessie sent you. She'll know who you're talking about."

"Jessie? That's a new one," Thomas says. "Is that your real name everyone's been trying like mad to figure out all these years? Because the betting pool is insane and even Reno's in on that one."

I hear Sano snort as if something is funny, but he doesn't say anything about it.

"You really think I'd tell anyone my real name, Thomas?" I roll my eyes despite the fact that it really is a short version of my name and a few members of AVALANCHE know that as truth. "Keep guessing."

"That's not fair," he stops short of whining. "I really want to know."

"Children, fight nicely," Sano says. "I'll be sure to tell her that to keep from causing a scene. Verdot also will want a word with you."

A sense of dread invades my soul. I was hoping to try to avoid him at all costs, but the way Sano says it tells me that is not to be so.

"You'll be able to check up on them of course," he says.

The prospect of keeping an eye on them makes me regret this a little less than I am. Even if I can't be there to oversee the mission myself, I can still keep tabs on them from a distance.

"I would like that, Sano."

"Good. That will make this mission easier. It's nice to see you're still you."

"Thank you, for everything." And I mean it too. They're doing me a huge favor and gives me a little bit of freedom to focus on other things. It's not much, but it's better than what I had earlier.

"Thank Verdot when you see him." Sano walks past. "And be careful. The western side is crawling with infantry right now."

"Wait," Thomas says, alarmed. "She's not coming back with us?"

"Commander's orders, no."

Those words put me on edge. If I'm not with the other Turks, I'm out in the open and fair game for a certain lead watchdog who is likely on the prowl. This isn't good.

"But, Sano, you know it's not exactly safe out—"

"You and I both know Cissnei can handle her own situation." Warning words that tell the young man that it's not their mission to drag me back 'home' with them. "And the sooner she leaves, the better off she'll be."

I nod in the darkness, somewhat relieved I'm being given a brief window of time to escape. I just need to get to Ardun and I can get far enough away to tend my wound and wait out the night before moving on.

"Good luck," he says and steps into the darkness.

Thomas grumbles under his breath about it not being fair, but he knows better than to question the Commander's orders.

I let some time pass before opening the door and stepping into the vacant street. Not even stopping for one last look at the city, I make my way through the streets towards the plains where Ardun is waiting.

Before one foot even touched the wasteland's beginning, I feel it. Eyes. Watching every movement.

I clutch Rekka with a silent curse. Still being followed. The list of prospects runs through my mind, settling on only one.

Silence, long and drawn out. I shiver, no walls to hide against and nothing out here to protect me from that look you can feel.

"Leaving so soon, Jesshera?" he says just off to my left. "Without even saying 'hello?'"


	64. Leader of the Pack

**Wow, finally, I'm getting stuff updated. Sorry about the wait folks. There's a lot of stuff going on in the real world right now that is half insulting to my writing skills (if I had a nickel for every time in the past month I've been told to go pound sand and give up writing altogether, I'd be a moderately wealthy young lady) but since this isn't the place, nor should you have to listen to my frustrations, I thought an update was in order to sooth the pain and get back into writing while I prepare for the biggest writing conference of my life this spring with the sad little real novel in tow. So, without further ado, I hope you all enjoy this update and I do appreciate your kind patience in waiting for me to update. I really didn't mean to take so long on this fic, or the other one. Thank you again and here's to a better update schedule hopefully.**

**Chapter Sixty Four – Leader of the Pack**

Those words confirm my worst fears.

This isn't a 'normal' watchdog I've stumbled into the path of. Not even Tseng can rival the man leaning against that protective stone wall's nightmarish presence. Very few people in this world have the ability to freeze me in place, too scared to even tremble, but Veld, or Verdot as we formally call him, _the_ lead watchdog of the Turks, not only has the ability, he's mastered it.

And in the shadowy light of Meteor, he's downright terrifying.

My hand drifts away from Rekka and dares make no efforts to even appear to think twice about that.

"Still as careless as ever, _Jessie_," he scolds and I can almost hear the snide tone lingering under that terrifying Commander's tone he's got. "I expected better and you should know better by now that if this carelessness continues, the mistakes you will make will have far graver consequences."

Yep, that's definitely him alright. I choose silence and don't take my eyes off the intimidating man as he steps closer, strides measured and confident. Those horrible brown eyes bore into my soul, mocking, scolding me with each passing second. Meteor's light casts a haunting shadow across the scar on the side of his face and while he's aged since I last stood before his desk, the familiar suit and tie make him look exactly how I've always imagined Death looking, because I'm not sure Death could even look that terrifying.

I'm unable to do anything but watch him approach and even if I really wanted to chance it and run, at this point, what's the use anyway. That's all I seem to be doing lately and it's starting to take its toll. There's no way a man like Verdot will let me get away either.

You don't turn your back on the leader of the Turks unless you have a sincere death wish.

He halts in front of me, studying me. I feel those awful brown eyes roam my thin frame, taking in the details, and the wound and I see him frown. That was always one thing that he didn't tolerate. _His_ Turks always upheld a sort of dignity and respect for not only him, but for the uniform we wear. And right now, mine's dusty, worn, and crudely patched to the point where I look anything but presentable. Even my unfortunate tie has seen better days, given that I've sort of been letting Ardun play with it when we make camp so I can get at least an hour or two of sleep here and there.

And unlike Reno, who could pretty much get away with anything and Verdot would let it slide, I don't have that immunity.

He shakes his head disapprovingly and makes a gesture back to the town.

"You will accompany me back to town and no, it is not a suggestion."

Damn it. He's not going to let me leave and there's nothing I can do about it this time. That tone isn't debatable and of all the humiliating things that have happened to me this morning, being snared by a verbal leash like this by him of all people is just downright sad.

Worse yet, I don't really feel like trying to fight back either. I'm wounded, tired, and quite frankly miserable beyond words. But I try to manage a brief, fleeting attempt at defiance, only to end up nodding instead. It's not worth the effort trying against him right now.

"Your bird. Bring him too."

The words surprise me. That's something new. Verdot usually has a strict policy regarding 'pets' as in a 'no, you may not keep them' sort of deal. Normally Ardun would be left behind in situations like this, but having him with me offers some small comfort since I'll know where he is at least.

_You don't even know where you'll be, _the weary watchdog scolds but I try to ignore her. Not much I can do about that right now anyway. Verdot's the 'official' leader of the Turks now that I definitely know he's still alive, written and unwritten, and _no one_ outshoots the leader of the Turks. Ever.

"Yes, sir," I manage and hesitantly walk the three yards to retrieve the bird.

Ardun raises his head and looks toward Verdot. A deep, alarmed wark rattles the scruffy bird's throat and he stomps a sharp black talon against the dirt and hisses. I reach up and scratch the bird's neck affectionately.

_Good boy_. _I don't like him that much either_, I want to say, but we don't get a choice in the matter. It'll be safer for him with me than out here for now. Especially with a questionably motivated pack like the one prowling this city about.

Oh how I want to believe that. It's bad enough they're the ones protecting Elmyra and Marlene right now. I tug the makeshift reins and lead the bird towards the Commander.

Verdot eyes the animal and I catch a brief, almost nonexistent smirk as Ardun clicks his beak and pulls extra hard on the reins while ruffling his feathers.

"Cissnei," his says sternly. "You're not being lead to your doom but you'd be wise to keep pace."

Funny thing about Turks when they say you're not being lead to something—they lie. And he's mastered that aspect better than any Turk current or former. So when he implies you're safe, you're anything but.

I manage to calm the scruffy bird down long enough to follow him through the winding off streets unoccupied by Scarlet's prissy hounds. The city is intimidating, more so now with the man's official presence than it was even when facing the SOLDIER earlier. There's probably no safer place on the planet right now considering that I know 'former' comrades occupy the shadows that we're being lead to, but that does little to quell the nagging instincts warning against following him.

By the time we manage to reach a fairly modest building, one that looks to have been here as part of the original city, I'm pretty much limping and using the bird as a crutch. The house is brick with a traditional façade and wooden roof, complete at two stories just like the other buildings on this street.

Honestly, when I filled out the old, remaining pack's fake death certificates years ago—with the exception of Verdot's, which Tseng apparently handled on his own, I really didn't think they'd seek shelter so close to Midgar. I knew it would be somewhere and spent a large amount of time carefully covering tracks, but it was never _my_ place to know the details of where they went or what they were doing after they 'vanished.' In all honesty, I wanted no part of the 'Great Desertion' as it was secretly known as.

Not because I didn't want to go with them. Tseng would have likely let me go along had I only asked. But I had other things to worry about—one of which was Zack of all people—and the last thing I really wanted was to follow Verdot when I clearly belonged under Tseng's command.

And that, unfortunately, wasn't exactly the best kept of secrets amongst the entire pack.

_You still have a family, _the watchdog within reminds me, as if Sano's words hold any truth. And if I still have a 'family' per se, it's about 50-50 on how Verdot will choose to handle that one. Treason is highly frowned upon by the Turks and when someone like him comes to find you, you really won't be committing the same mistakes twice.

"When was the last time you slept, actually slept? Or ate for that matter?"

"A couple of days, maybe longer," I answer in defeat and pretend to be occupied with the chocobo. Truth be told, I can't honestly remember the last time I actually slept a full night or had a semi-decent meal other than a few hours here and there, and when I was tagging along with AVALANCHE, but even then that was short-lived at best.

Every time I even try to it seems Scarlet's hounds always seem too close for comfort and a frightened little part of me really does wonder if Zack felt this way before meeting his untimely end. After all, the very military he served turned and killed him.

Why wouldn't it be a Turk that does me in?

Verdot's gaze finds me again, disapproving yet again, as he leads us around the building's side, to a narrow alleyway where a few stalls set into the building's foundation out of public view.

_Yeah, go ahead_, I fight back a scowl. Disapprove of my living situation all you want. Not like you didn't have help when you and the others left. I bite my tongue because it will only get me into trouble.

The look does not go unnoticed and he tilts his chin with a look that warns me not to push my luck around him since I know better. He is _not_ Tseng.

My attention turns to the stalls instead. Fresh hay scatters across their floors. A water trough sits in the corner and several empty buckets are stacked nearby. From the looks of things they kept chocobos at one time, or at least anticipated keeping them.

"What are his preferred greens?"

Given the stern look, I'm a little surprised he's even bothering with my chocobo's welfare. That's a rare thing and while not unwelcome, I'm not too sure I'm comfortable with it. Turks have ulterior motives most times. For all I know he could kill me and try to pawn my bird off onto the others.

Still though, beats leaving him out where the Kalm Fangs roam. I turn my attention to the bird and then the stall, watching his feathers bristle with unease at potentially being stuck in such a confining place.

"He's a forager." I pat the chocobo's neck and he turns, nipping at my shoulder affectionately, but still keeping one wary eye on the stall.

"If it makes him more comfortable, you may leave the stall door open." Verdot nods. "Lilian will tend to his needs."

I'll be damned. She's still around too. A tiny part of me feels comfortable with that arrangement since the knife thrower actually knows enough about chocobos, having worked on a ranch for a while. That doesn't mean Ardun will be happy with the arrangement.

I look up at the bird. For now, it'll have to do. Leading the large, scruffy bird into the stall, I watch him give me a confused look, but he doesn't resist. It's a big change for him since the only time he's ever really been in a confined space was our two trips, going and coming through the Mythril Mines.

Ardun frantically looks from wall to wall and then to me as if asking "why are we in here?"

Scratching his neck to offer the best comfort I can, I glance around. It's a nice stall, fairly large—by human standards anyway—and out of the weather at least. Truth be told, it's not so much the stall that worries me, it's how he'll warm up to Lillian.

She's one of the nicer Turks, not quite as snippy as Kristen or Beatrice can be, but a bit strict when it comes to birds. So long as she doesn't irritate him too much, and by some weird miracle, hopefully he won't go running out into the city while I'm gone.

"Stay."

He clicks his beak as I slip the reins from his makeshift bridle, taking care to leave the crude rope halter on him. 'Just in case.' Draping the reins over a wooden rail I watch him scratch the hay with a sharp talon, almost fascinated by the strange stuff.

"He won't go anywhere, sir." Yeah, even the Meteor didn't seem to bother him. "But I suggest she bribe him with greens before trying to touch him. He may not be very smart, but he's wicked fast and strong when he's in a bad mood."

A chuckle responds and even the bird looks at the Commander, who shakes his head and studies the scruffy animal as if it was something he already knew.

Of course he'd already know. That's what he does. He wouldn't be Verdot otherwise.

"Don't worry, Shuriken. He'll be in good hands and well looked after." He walks by and picks up a small plastic bucket, dropping a few greens into it before offering said bucket to me. "Maybe these will help."

Vibrant green Sylkis greens coat the bottom of the bucket, far better than anything that could be scrounged up in the wilderness. Wow. If this doesn't get the bird's attention, nothing will.

I look up at Verdot, unsure of what ulterior motives could be behind his one. Ardun's a very scruffy bird. Hardly the kind of animal he would really approve of any of his Turks keeping. But he's my bird and if I can help it, that's not going to be changing anytime soon.

"Thank you, sir."

He nods and steps back to leave space between me and the chocobo. That's a first. Usually he's all about hurrying things up and getting a move on but for some reason, he seems content to let me deal with this at my own pace.

Ardun's dark eyes follow the bucket. Clicking his beak, he gives the older man a threatening warning hiss and ruffles his wings to show him how displeased he is with the new arrangement.

My bird, the drama king…I sigh and watch the bird seemingly harassing my superior officer. It's probably the longest his attention has really been held by something other than me—I've seen him distracted by a moth before—but it's kind a sad that for as intimidating as Verdot is, my chocobo has more courage than I could ever hope to have.

I give a short, sharp whistle to catch his attention. At first, Ardun hesitates taking his eyes off the threat, but the sound of greens being rattled seems to help and those dark eyes settle on the suspicious bucket. He has no idea what it is, nor does he seem too enthusiastic about investigating it.

I slowly reach into the bucket and grab a handful of the luscious greens. This is probably the best food he's ever eaten given grazing in the wastelands sucks.

"Stop being such a brat." I hold the greens out to him.

He cocks his head, intrigued. One eye stays on Verdot still and a talon moves forward towards the greens. Seeing who is holding the food seems to finally register in his tiny brain and he stretches his neck forward, seizing the greens quickly with a rather pleased wark of approval.

The gesture repeats a few times before I'm finally about to put the bucket down for him to investigate on his own. The bird pacified for the time being, I step away and out of the stall.

"Are you ready?" The question is almost casual, by Verdot standards anyway, and he continues watching the chocobo.

"Yes, sir." If one can ever truly be ready for anything anyway.

A soft clunk and a wark of amazement as Ardun kicks the item with his talons and jumps back with surprise. He immediately stretches his neck closer for a better look at the noisy contraption and curiously examines it. A wark of excitement follows and he begins investigating his new toy.

I try not to feel embarrassed that my almighty 'fierce' bird who just seconds ago showed so much promise of intelligence is now mesmerized by a plastic bucket of all things. And from the looks of it, that'll keep him amused probably most of the day, night, whatever it is, if not longer. Then again, he spends hours tossing my poor tie up in the air while I sleep, so this really shouldn't surprise me. But does it have to happen in front of Verdot? Really.

"He takes after you, Shuriken." My superior officer doesn't even try to hide the amusement in his tone and I try not to let the embarrassment show.

Saying no more, he turns and walks to a door hidden alongside the house's foundation. I follow, knowing he doesn't appreciate people wasting his time.

It's darker inside the house than outside and it takes a few moments for my eyes eye adjust to the difference. Immediately, the territory feels threatening and you can tell it has that Turk feel of a hidden lair. The others are lurking somewhere in this building and I'm the outsider. Even if we're on 'friendly' terms at the moment, the thought of crossing paths with them in a place like this isn't something I'm looking forward to.

It's not that I don't like my 'family,' it's just the circumstances that don't sit well and if Thomas's invasion questioning is any indicator, the others will likely not hold back on their own curiosities.

Bad enough I'm destined for a lecture from Verdot. To hear it from the others will just be insulting. Footsteps tread through the hallway. Middling, long, the kind of footsteps that belong to one very familiar knife thrower.

"Your weapon." Verdot holds his hand out expectantly.

I sigh in defeat and struggle to hold back my frustration as I slip Rekka from its strap and hold the weapon out to him. Never in my entire career have I been forced to surrender my own weapon like this. It's insulting and humiliating.

He takes the shuriken. Brown eyes briefly glance over it before he holds it at his side and holds the other hand out.

"And the other one."

I remove the pistol from the holster and place it in his hand. Prisoner status. Just what I needed today.

His fingers curl around the weapon. "While you are in my house, I expect you to abide by the rules. Not that I do not think you are not capable of that but given the circumstances I feel that a reminder is in order. When I feel you are ready to leave, your weapons will be returned to you. Until then, you will abide by my rules."

He nods to Lilian. "Lilian will help you get settled in for the time being. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes, sir." I manage in defeat.

"Good. Welcome back to the family for the time being, Shuriken."

Welcome back to the family. Sure as hell doesn't feel like it.


	65. Pack Logic

**Wow, okay so I'm a little late on when this update was supposed to be done a good week ago. In all fairness, I did get it written in something shorter than 4 months, so that's actually a slight improvement. Hopefully, it's enjoyable for all you lovely readers out there. Seriously, you folks are wonderful, inspiring people who inspire me to work on the fic and try to get these updates written and the reason the fic even exists at all. Thanks for sticking with it this far! : ) And yes, for all you AVALANCHE lovers and Kunsel fans, we'll be seeing them again down the road here, so no, they're not gone forever, so hang in there for the time being and enjoy this arc in the meantime. That said, I'm thoroughly shifting focus for the next few weeks here (until we're done with the conference) so expect another update sometime mid-April for this fic. But, if I finish one early and have some spare time and can work one in, I might try to throw in another before then, but don't get too upset with me if it gets held up by the chaos known as the novel. Also, fans of the One Hundred Tiny Missions who also follow this fic, I'll be trying to get you an update before the end of this month too, so hang in there. I'm writing as fast as I can.**

**Chapter Sixty Five – Pack Logic**

The bitter look doesn't go unnoticed but mercifully he doesn't say it. Just gives me that look not to push my luck and that the attitude is not appreciated and that there _will_ be words about this before the day is over, likely much sooner.

Lilian seems to sense it and the knife thrower motions for me to follow her. When the lead watchdog gives you an order, you follow it and for now at least, she's responsible for whatever orders regarding me and my bird that were issued to her. The look though promises that this isn't permanent, and _that_ worries me. Verdot has reasons for every order he issues and the fact that he took my weapons doesn't bode well for what this little talk is going to be about.

But for now, this place is safe, and while I have trouble believing that, it's how things are and how they're going to be.

I trudge after Lilian, exhausted and miserable and I feel those lethal brown eyes follow me down the hallway and to the wooden staircase leading to a second floor.

"And here I thought Thomas was running his mouth over nothing," Lilian offers a smile when we're safely out of Verdot's earshot, if that's even possible, which it never is. "It's been close to five years now since we've actually seen you."

Sounds about right give or take a few months.

"I'll be the one to say it before you get an earful from Beatrice over it, but when the whole reactor and plate events happened, two people in this house pegged it might be you. None of us wanted to believe it and no one will likely admit it out loud, but when it became more and more apparent the kind of trouble our little sister's been getting into with us not around to keep her out of it, especially with Junon, we were really worried."

I flinch at the bitter memories. "Extremely sore subject right now, Lilian."

"The Commander figured it might be which is why I'm here instead of Beatrice or Kristen."

Thank Holy for small favors sometimes. "I don't need a babysitter."

"I know you don't." The much taller knife thrower nods with a smile and walks a few paces ahead of me through the narrow second floor hallway. "But then again, I don't recall you walking with a limp and having those scars either. Must've been hell running from her eh?"

I scowl and try not to let her get to me. If anyone knows a thing or two about running on her own, it's Lilian. Of course Verdot would choose her. She had plenty of experience surviving on her own before she became a Turk and while Shinra never put a target on her back, she has the wounds to back up her story.

"I won't ask then." She looks down at me, sympathy in her hazel eyes. "Don't let the others get to you. We're all shocked that you've survived this long and honestly, even I had to see it for myself to believe it. It's a welcomed change considering the ones we've lost over the years."

A welcomed change. Yeah, I guess when you put it that way, I should be thankful Verdot didn't just put a bullet in my brain and let me lying in the street for Scarlet to find. Not that he might not think about it at one point. 'Problem' Turks shouldn't get too comfortable and he's never really been too fond of me in general so I'm anything but safe.

Marlene and Elmyra can just as easily be used as leverage against me right now too if I'm not careful and while the watchdog part of me knows I can 'trust' these people, the "fox" part warns against giving up any ground to them because that's bit me in the ass before.

_It's also gained you some valuable allies_, the weary watchdog reminds. _And you sure as hell could use them right now._

"You know I want to be able to say it's 'good to be home,' but…" Verdot scares the hell out of me.

She smirks, no stranger to having witnessed a few confrontations between the Commander and me back when the pack was one big happy family. "Give it a few days. You'll think differently once we get that wound tended and you get to know the place better."

_You haven't looked up at the sky lately, have you? _I don't say it and instead offer a forced attempt at a smile. "Yeah, maybe so."

"At least you're trying. That's a good thing." She points to the second door on the left. "Why don't you get cleaned up while I go see if I can find you some clean clothes? It'll make it easier to take care of that wound too."

I nod. An actual shower will do me some good.

Several long minutes later I step out of the shower and wrap a towel around by body. Much as I hate to admit it, it feels good to no longer smell like a rain-drenched, dusty chocobo for a change. I run a hand through my auburn hair and carefully work the knots out of it.

It's grown longer since the plate fell and while I know it's far from the comfortable length it was when I was still a Turk, and even through AVALANCHE's fiasco, I haven't had a lot of time to actually notice it. Then again, when you're struggling to survive and racing the enemy to save people's lives, there's no real time to notice things like that, let alone appreciate just how much time has passed. I should try to find something to tie it back with, if anything just to keep it from getting in the way like it's been.

The mirror in the small bathroom catches my attention and the woman in the mirror stops me in my tracks. For several long seconds, I can only stare, unable to look away.

No wonder Verdot dragged me back here. The woman in that mirror looks like absolute hell. Exhausted. Thin and ragged because she hasn't slept in days. A small, but distinct scar mars her flesh, offsetting the dark circles that make her even more tired.

Her eyes…I flinch as I find myself staring into what should be familiar amber. The color hasn't changed, but the distinct, unusual glow that tinges them can't be ignored. Faint, but it's there, a permanent reminder to what happened. What I _failed_ to do.

Trembling fingers ghost over the image in the mirror, as if the simple motion will wipe away the reflection. Nothing changes. Why would it? Only a fool would think that the gesture might have done anything. I close my eyes and flinch at the wound stinging my hip where that SOLDIER's blade caught me.

I should've just stayed with AVALANCHE. With them I didn't look half as tired as I do now.

A sharp rapping on the door startles me and I open my eyes, grateful for the distraction. Prying the door open slightly, it doesn't surprise me to see Lilian with a fresh set of clothes.

"I hope you don't mind wearing some of Thomas's civilian clothing. He's a little taller than you but still fairly small in stature so they should be more comfortable at least. Sort of forgot how small you really were compared to the rest of us."

I struggle to hold back a glare. "Gaia's sakes, Lilian. I'm not _that_ short."

"You're still the smallest 'puppy' in the pack so yes, you are." She smiles and hands me the clothes, along with a hair brush.

"Thanks," I manage in a hoarse, quiet tone, accepting the clothes and shutting the door once again. With a weary sigh, I take stock of what my 'sister' brought me. A plain t-shirt along with sweatpants. Yep, they plan on me staying with them for a while.

I finish drying off and dress quickly, struggling to work the remaining knots from my hair as Lilian opens the door with a first aid kit to tend the wound. She works quickly and I try my damnedest not to flinch. He got me good but it's not going to be lethal. Still more than enough to wound my pride and make me miserable for a while, even with the curaga she's casting on it.

"Sheesh, what did you fight anyway, an angry pack of Kalm fangs or were you attacked by chocobos?" Lilian flinches.

"A SOLDIER."

She looks down at me. "Does the word _'trouble'_ mean _anything_ to you?"

"Trouble doesn't even begin to cover my situation, Lilian."

"I'll say." She finishes tending the wound. "But you know what, that doesn't matter right now. Breakfast does and I hear it's Kristen's turn this morning so you know she'll cook something half decent."

Can't complain about that. She's one of the better chefs in the group at least.

We retreat back down the hall and to the first floor, where the morning routine appears to be in full swing. My 'brothers' and 'sisters' make their way to the dining table, each greeting Verdot in their usual little quirky ways, be it a subtle smile or a nod. He acknowledges them as though they are and always will be his family.

They are in a way. They're _his_ family. Sometimes I wonder why Reno didn't follow. His respect for Verdot was far greater than anything I could ever pretend to have and greater than even his respect for Tseng. But he and Rude chose to stay under Tseng's rule and I never bothered to ask his reasons why because I know he was anything but scared of that man.

Lilian gives me a gentle nudge forward and I try to keep my footfalls light so not to attract any extra attention. Not that it will do much good. That happened the moment I was dragged back here and, from experience, news travels fast among 'family.' At least it does once Thomas opens his mouth about something that can be confirmed by anyone higher ranked than he is and people like Beatrice and Kristen get word of it.

I feel Verdot's eyes on me again and he glances at the stairs. The unwanted attention doesn't go unnoticed and I catch Thomas looking, as well as Beatrice who almost smirks. Great. Just what I need today. Kristen will probably be less of a pain in the ass about my situation, but the shotgun wielder with the long brown hair is far more likely to be a nuisance with the 'I told you so' lectures and stuff that older 'sisters' tend to do.

When Kristen emerges from the kitchen, the imposing martial artist's presence seems to create a different feel to the already stressful situation. Immediately, I'm aware of the curious and surprised looks as I stand face to face with the closest thing to a 'family' I've ever known.

I take an instinctive step backwards, feeling like the outsider, problem child that I am to them. I don't belong here. I'm a born wanderer. Always have been and always will be. And family or not, the group watching me is no less intimidating than Verdot himself is right now.

"Cissnei." Verdot's intimidating voice drops to an almost fatherly tone. "Come join the others for breakfast."

He points to a chair at the head of the table. _His_ chair. I can't recall there ever being a time that he's given up his place at the table for anyone when the family would eat together and _that_ worries me. No, not worries, it scares the hell out of me.

Lilian nudges me forward with an 'it's okay' sort of gesture, but I can't make myself move closer to that table. Verdot's eyes almost soften slightly, the hard edge he usually has about them remaining fatherly as he once again points to the chair.

"_Go ahead,"_ the gesture says. _"And no, this is not open to debate."_

"Thank you, sir." The words are a gentle whisper, timid and downright scared. It's rare and none of the others seem to have a problem with his unusual gesture, but it is an official _invitation_ to rejoin the 'family.'

I quietly sit down and Lilian finds her place nearby. Verdot nods and takes his leave. He won't go far, but there is always business to tend to and for now at least, he's giving me some time to get reacquainted with the others.

Kristen finishes setting the plates of food on the table, curiosity on her face. She knows better than to immediately get involved with a slew of questions though. Not that I can't tell there are things she and the others really want to ask. Verdot's presence holds them back and for once I'm grateful over it.

I glance down at the plate of food in front of me and offer up a polite "thank you." It's been a while since I've eaten anything that wasn't either half-cooked by the Highwind's excuse for a chef or that I didn't have to hunt down and cook myself, and I'm not gonna lie, the plate of pancakes looks damn good right now.

I mentally flinch. Pancakes were one of the staple foods in Gongaga and one of those foods Zack never quite stopped talking about when he wasn't talking about dumbapples.

_Zack_…I will myself to try not to think about him. He's dead and nothing will ever bring him back. I wish I could close that chapter of my life for good and move on already. But it's hard, and with all that's happened, I doubt it ever will be closed. I don't make eye contact with the other Turks, hoping they can't see the unshed tears haunting me.

I won't cry in front of them though. Never in front of them.

Mercifully, the morning routine seems to continue as usual when Beatrice smugly glances over at Kristen.

"He was cute and you know it."

Kristen pretends to pay no attention to the shotgun wielder. "I can do better."

"Don't you deny it," Beatrice smirks. "I saw you looking and he looked back."

"Maybe I was," the martial artist says matter-of-factly and sips her coffee. "But then again I saw you flirting with the bar piano player."

"Like you wouldn't! He was easily the best looking thing in the bar last night and you're just jealous."

"Why would _I_ be jealous?" Kristen smirks. "It's not like I didn't collect his number or anything."

Beatrice's eyes widen. "You didn't."

The martial artist casually pulls a slip of paper from her shirt pocket and flips it between her fingertips.

"Oh I hate you so much right now."

Kristen grins. "I know."

"I don't understand you two," Thomas shakes his head. "It's just a guy."

Both women look at the blonde-haired Turk. "Says the guy who keeps a list of women he's too shy to ask out on dates."

Thomas turns a deep shade of red. "That's supposed to be private!"

"Then do your own laundry sometime," Kristen quips.

I catch a look between Sano and Lilian from the corner of my eye, as if both older Turks aren't at all surprised by the chatter, if not amused by poor Thomas's unfortunate situation.

I can't resist a smile at the thought and am thankful for the casual chatter and some semblance of a normal routine for once. Just like old times. It's something familiar and allows me to at least mentally tiptoe around Zack's memories for a while. But the other problem is hard to ignore and I stop paying much attention to the other conversations going on at the table when it catches my eye.

Haunting crimson light seeps through a slit in the heavy curtains at the far end of the room, a less that subtle reminder of what's up in that sky and what's coming for us soon. I shiver and try not to think about it. There might be time to worry about that when I get out of here and get back to dealing with Scarlet. No, not might. There will be.

This place isn't 'home' nor do I really want to spend what could be my last days doing nothing when I know I can at least _try_ to help AVALANCHE.

"Hey Ciss," Beatrice sets her sights on me. "Watchdog or puppy?"

I continue to glance at the distracting Meteor light creeping through the window. "Puppy."

"Knew it!"

Wait. What? I look over at a grinning Beatrice. "Huh?"

"Ah that got her attention. You owe me 25 gil, Kristen."

"Big deal. I already suspected that. She's always had a thing for the SOLDIERs."

I feel my face flush with embarrassment. You don't want to get into a conversation with Beatrice and Kristen about guys. Ever. It never ends well for your dignity…

"Now that's just not fair!" Thomas glares. "Come on, Cissnei! You're supposed to be in my corner on this one!"

"Honestly, Thomas," Lilian smirks and slinks into the conversation. "From what I saw of him myself, I'd say you didn't have a hope in Hades."

The blonde Turk crosses his arms dejectedly. "You're not helping, Lilian."

"I'm _just_ saying. There was a perfectly adorable reason she stayed."

"Oh this is good." Beatrice's eyes light up. "So it _was_ a guy."

Oh dear goddesses…I just want to crawl into a hole and hide right now.

"That's not—"

"No need to be shy about it. Be honest," she leans closer. "Was he cute? Details here, girl. I need details."

"Beatrice!" Thomas pouts. "Let her alone."

"You're just jealous."

He scowls. "I am not jealous!"

"Uh huh. Says the man who always got upset when _Reno_ talked to her."

"I'm not! She wants to date a SOLDIER, that's none of my business."

"Alright. Enough." I scowl, my inner watchdog snarling at the other members of the pack. "It's not like that at all."

"Someone's awfully defensive all of a sudden," Kristen joins forces with the nosey shotgun wielder.

I growl. "There was never anything between us and there sure as hell was no 'dating' him. We were friends only."

"Ouch," Beatrice looks over at Kristen. "Yep, she was definitely the 'other' girl in that relationship."

_Oh that's it._ Both hands hit the table and I glare at them both. "Mind your own business, Beatrice. It wasn't like that at all."

"Really now?" The shotgun wielder looks about as intimidated as a bored chocobo.

"Beatrice," Lilian's lighthearted tone takes a sharp warning edge that is matched by an equal look by Sano.

She waves Lilian off casually. "Now I really _am_ curious as to who she was."

"I believe you and Kristen have a patrol to tend to, Beatrice," Verdot's almost reprimanding tone makes the shotgun wielder glance away from me. "Cissnei." He stands by the stairs and motions me over to him. "A word."

His eyes drift to the table, almost in a scolding manner to the others. "In private."

Silence falls over the table. Great. Now I've gone and done it.

I silently cuss and grudgingly make my way over to Verdot, feeling like a timid puppy myself. He doesn't look happy, nor should he be. I've been here, what, an hour if that and already half the family is likely pissed at me for something that's really not my fault. Still, even if I didn't start it, that doesn't mean I wasn't involved and I'm about to pay dearly for challenging my older 'sister.'

A quick glance to the door tells me the odds aren't that good. Even if I could make it that far, there's no way I'd get past the door with the others around. And not having my weapon doesn't help because unlike me, they're armed.

The leader of the Turks stands by the stairs, watching me with a slight hint of concealed amusement in his eyes. I hate that look. It's one that assures me that he knows exactly what I'm thinking and even if I did try it, he's found a way to thwart any escape efforts well in advance.

After all, he's got plenty to hold over my head at this point to make escape damn near impossible.

"Come with me," he orders almost gently but still holding that stern sense about him that it's in everyone's best interest not to fight him or even try to defy the order. He knows that under normal circumstances, I'd find a way to challenge him and escape.

There's too much to lose right now though. Far too much.

I follow, ignoring the others silently exchanging looks at the table. They try to hide it. Try not to show that they knew this was coming and hide their own versions of pity and amusement at my plight. You really can't hide all that much from Turks though, former and present.

All instinct warning against it, I quietly follow Verdot out of the dining room and to the stairs.

He looks down at me. "You know better."

"It wasn't _my_ fault, sir."

"That does not matter. You should know better by now."

"Yes sir." No sense arguing an already lost battle. They're right. He's right. I'm wrong no matter what I say. This is bad enough as it is.

"I expect better behavior the next time you two cross paths."

_Tell that to them_. I resist the urge to roll my eyes.

"I will have a talk with Beatrice and Kristen as well," he says. "For now, you need to rest. I will not have one of my Turks running around looking like an easy target for Shinra or its hounds."

Rest. The very concept seems foreign to me at this point. I give him a look harboring both frustration and defeat. 'Rest' has been damn near impossible for a long time now and with Scarlet and her hounds prowling so damn close, I doubt it will help. Even if I do manage to sleep, the nightmares never leave. He just expects me to sleep when there is so damn much to worry about?

"While you are here, there isn't," he says, as if reading my mind. Then again, it's Verdot. The man's practically mastered every form of communication to date and it really wouldn't surprise me if he _could_ read minds. "You are under our protection."

Under their protection…That's more than I could ever hope for and just as terrifying. I don't meet his gaze. Still, he's offering me a place to stay for the night, away from Scarlet's hounds, be it only temporary until I can get back to chasing her. And to do that, I'll need my weapon back—something he won't return until he feels I deserve it back.

He opens a door in the second floor hallway and takes the lead, holding the door open for me to follow. There's no doubt in my mind that the moment I set foot in that room, he'll step back out and lock the door to confine me for the time being. But there's no way he'll give me back my weapon until I either play by the rules, or pretend to play by them.

Grudgingly, I step into the room and glance around for the quickest exit, a window, anything. Nothing. The room is nice though. Quiet. Cozy even. A simple bed with a periwinkle blue and canary yellow comforter. A simple lamp on a nightstand with a small clock beside it.

The walls themselves are light blue to match the bedding and the room itself gives off a soft, welcoming warmth despite having no actual windows. Better than trying to sleep somewhere in the wilderness, under the less than concealing light of Meteor with a weary chocobo nosing around at least.

"This is to be your room during your stay with us," he says. "I advise you get comfortable with the arrangement and lose the attitude. It's unbecoming of the Turks and I'll expect better behavior from here on out. Do we have an understanding?"

"Yes sir." Lose the attitude. Beatrice started it…

"As for the rest of our family, I expect you to show them equal respect. I know for a fact that is not beyond your capabilities seeing as you managed it your entire career as a Turk under _my_ command."

I acknowledge the words with a nod. Must as I hate the idea of being captive to my 'family,' the motion seems to appease Verdot for the time being because he nods. At least it's somewhat of a step in the right direction for now.

"If there is anything you need," he says, the commanding tone once again replaced by the almost fatherly tone. "You only have to ask, Cissnei."

"I'm fine, thank you," I try to hold back the slight edge to my words. He's done more than enough already. I've never been the type to outright ask for help in any way, shape, or form, opting instead to figure things out on my own and he of all people knows it.

"It's good to see you are still as stubborn as I remember you being." He shakes his head, a light smirk quickly fading and he nods. "The offer is always open regardless. Now get some sleep."

I watch him leave and the door shuts behind him. His footfalls fade down the hall but I wait until he's gone, or as much as 'gone' can entail for the time being before turning my back to it. Sitting down on the edge of the bed, I retrieve my PHS from my pocket and flip the phone open.

I work quickly, fiddling with the coding and overriding any and all traces Verdot likely managed to put on it with his messages earlier. It doesn't surprise me, nor should it. He likes keeping tabs on things but damn it, I'm getting some privacy one way or another in this house—even if it's only on my phone.


	66. Feral Encounter

**Wow. Okay folks. I owe you all an apology and reason for the significant delay in updates. One, my internet is about as stable as a pack of Moombas on a sugar high and two, I'm lazy. Lazy enough to not write as much as usual because I've been in writing hell with the novel and fan fiction just wasn't on my mind. That's changing though and I'm trying to at least get through the fics with quality updates to show appreciation to you, the readers. (No sense writing them just to write them.) So, here's an update and fans of certain Before Crisis characters will appreciate the nod to a new arrival to the story for the time being. Enjoy folks and if all goes well, another update will NOT take 4+ months to be up since I had to split this chapter. Missions folks, hang in there since I'm not feeling ultra-funny and comical at the moment. Your updates will be coming soon, promise! **

**Chapter Sixty Six – Feral Encounter**

In a house full of 'retired' Turks, privacy is an illusion.

They don't think I can hear those light hesitating footsteps outside the door. After all, I'm supposed to be sleeping, which is damn near impossible right now. And while Beatrice and Kristen are easily the best at eavesdropping on people, Thomas is absolutely horrid at it. Twice now he's destroyed nearly any and all chances of sleep by bumping into a wall. That, and Lilian's scolding isn't hard to hear through the thin walls.

I really don't give a damn at this point what they think. In all honesty, I just want to get out of here and back on the trail. With Marlene and Elmyra taken care of for now, there's only one place left to go—Midgar. Scarlet's there and while everything warns that it will end in Midgar one way or another, that's the best place to gain an advantage on her.

But for now I'm stuck here as nothing short of a captive to the people who are trying to 'help' which would be easier if Thomas would just go do whatever it is he does all day and let me try to sleep. I'm exhausted, miserable, and still slated for a meeting with Verdot about my behavior and situation whenever he gets around to it—after I've gotten some actual sleep.

Until that happens though, I settle for the only thing remotely familiar at this point and flip through the messages on my now untraceable phone. The closest thing to privacy I actually have here.

**Message from Reno: Why the hell don't you ever pick up your phone 'Nei!**

Well, almost privacy. I lay on the bed and flip through a deluge of messages all from him.

**Message from Reno: I've called like ten times now! I'm getting worried. **

**Message from Reno: WHAT. THE. HELL. 'NEI! You can't just ignore me every time I call! That's like the 10****th**** time! I'm really worried here!**

After the fifteenth message like this, I scowl and hold my finger against the screen, rereading that last message. Reno can exaggerate better than anyone I've ever known, but ten likely legitimate calls don't just not make it to this particular phone.

A quick flip through the past calls shows no hints of him having called me. Granted, I have it set to automatically delete my tracks after a set amount of time, but there should still be something about him having tried to call me.

I dig deeper into the phone's data and sit straight up in bed. Yeah. He called alright. Quite a bit actually. Only, it wasn't _my_ phone that rang.

"You son of a bitch." I grit my teeth and flip through everything, frantically checking to see if Verdot got away with anything else on my phone aside from Reno's messages. Mercifully, AVALANCHE's information was secured and auto-encrypted by passwords only I can override well before he could get to it, but the moment Verdot's first text got through, anything afterwards became fair game—especially Reno's calls and texts.

My eyes narrow and I scour every file, checking and double checking just to be safe. Yeah, he got away with nothing on AVALANCHE, but from the looks of it, Reno's fair game. And if Reno was intercepted, now he's got a trace on his phone too.

And if I call him that trace will swing right back around. Son of a bitch. This means war now.

Setting a safety net to deflect any traces the moment they try to take hold in hopes of rewriting them and sending a message right back to Verdot that my phone is none of his damn business, I wait a few minutes for it to take hold and type a calculated message to Reno. One, if not _the_, most important message we have between us to warn we're being watched.

**Message to Reno: Sorry, was bird watching in the rain.**

I never thought I'd actually have to use that phrase and it not be a lie, but right now, he'll know exactly what that means and it's got nothing to do with Ardun. Reno doesn't know about that bird yet, but he does know now that there's a trace on the line and that if he's smart, he'll do his best to get rid of it—of more likely, message me back so I can remove it that way and counter it.

I set the phone against the bed and listen toward the door. Good. No one out there.

**Message from Reno: Flying near the cliffs here. Riding high and dry yet? **

Bingo. I send the safe net and watch as Verdot's trace on Reno's phone is eliminated, leaving the lines free and clear for now. That was a little more uncomfortable than I want to admit and I have every right to be pissed about this.

Seconds later, the phone vibrates with a phone call. Keeping my voice low and listening for any signs of life that I'm being spied on, I answer.

"_The hell, 'Nei!"_ Frustration snarls in his normally pleasant tone. _"You could at least warn me!"_

"Not this time," I whisper, watching the door on edge. "None of those calls reached me."

"_I got that much but who the hell got them? Scarlet? Heidegger? I swear I'm going to introduce whoever's been listening in to my EMR when I find out who it is." _

"Shh," I continue to watch the door, feeling threatened by something that may or may not be there. Right now this PHS is the most important tool I have to work with and if I lose it, I'm not getting it back.

"_Nei?"_ his voice drops low. _"Where are-"_

"Listen very carefully, Reno. I can't tell you where I am right now but know it's _not_ with AVALANCHE. Also, it's fifty fifty your phone will be tapped again. I can't tell you by who but know that whatever messages you sent or left on the voice mail never reached me so until I know for sure any incoming lines to my phone are secured, check yours twice on your end as well."

"_I swear 'Nei. I'm going to find out who tapped the lines and when I do-"_

"Reno," I glare at the door and keep the growl low. "Don't. You'll make this situation worse than it already is. I know who tapped the lines and trust me, you don't want to get involved. This is between him and me."

I hear a long pause on the other end, as if the redhead is wracking his brain for everyone and anyone I've made enemies with over the years who could match the description.

"_I know you and Tseng don't see eye to eye sometimes but why would he—"_

"Far worse."

"_Worse than Tseng?"_ I can almost hear him thinking through the phone line. _"Who could possibly be—"_

"Believe me, you don't want to know and even if you did, you wouldn't believe it. So for now, keep a low profile on the phone lines and be careful with anything you leave as messages on this phone unless you're sure you're talking to me. Okay?"

"_Sure thing, 'Nei. But still…"_ another long pause. _"There's only one other person I can think of who can put you on edge like this and he's 'retired.'"_

I hear footsteps moving up the stairs at a lazy pace and clutch the phone tighter.

"Sometimes 'retirement' isn't always permanent but you didn't hear it from me. Got that?"

"_Holy shit! You mean Ver—"_

"You. Didn't. Hear. It. From. Me." I grit my teeth and watch the door, hearing the footsteps drawing closer.

"_Okay. Okay. Just, be careful 'Nei. You and him butted heads enough as it was back then, I wouldn't push my luck now either." _

"Believe me, I'm aware." I scowl. "I gotta go. I'll contact you later."

Hanging up the phone as the footsteps pass the door, I listen as they don't immediately stop. Instead they continue on their way, which gives me enough time to at least pretend I'm asleep for the time being.

It's almost impossible though and the phone tapping incident keeps me awake in addition to the strange new place. The watchdog wants to sleep and if it was any place but here, that wouldn't be a problem.

The second set of footsteps that walks through the hall stops at the door. They're not exactly light, but not as heavy as the guys tend to walk and far from the clumsy nature of Thomas. I've never heard these ones before either but then again, it's been a while since I've been around my 'family.'

Nope. Not Lilian either. This person doesn't limp like she does. And it's not Kristen or Beatrice. Female though. Definitely female and in the darkness, I can just barely see the shadows under the doorway. The door knob turns slowly and the door creaks open.

"You know," I glare through the darkness. "If you're going to eavesdrop, I suggest not wearing such heavy boots. I'm not deaf."

"Really now?" the voice holds a flat, lethal tone that makes me sit up and sink my fingers into the blanket, every instinct shifting into defense mode as both the watchdog and fox in me agree this person is a threat. "I had to test that theory for myself."

She opens the door a little wider, the hallway light falling across her slim figure and casting her in shadows. Dark brown hair, still kept relatively short, if not a little unkempt from so long ago falls across her lethal dark green eyes and she places a hand on the doorframe. Fingers sweep the tiny light switch and flood the room with blinding light.

I wince but keep my eyes on a threat I've never met in person—only heard and seen from surveillance footage. She's different from the file we kept under wraps, but it's not hard to tell. She's the real deal and that lethal, almost stoic look reminds me of a feral mountain cat about to pounce and shred watchdogs to pieces, this one especially.

Holy hell, she laid out _Sephiroth_ once. That's enough to send even the strongest watchdogs fleeing for safer ground. You can outsmart cats all you want but you don't have a chance against one that calls her real father the Leader of the Turks.

"So, you're the one the Commander's been talking about. You're younger than I expected and it shows."

_Resist the urge to growl at her_, the inner watchdog warns. My eyes narrow as she steps closer.

"I'd say it's a mistake to even call you a Turk at this point, if ever, but that wouldn't be fair now. Would it. Can't say I'm not as impressed as I am disgusted by what you've done with _my_ group either. Disgraceful."

I grit my teeth and try not to let it show that she's getting to me. She halts, crossing her arms across her chest and offering a nearly emotionless attempt at a smug look. Civilian clothing and not carrying her katana. Doesn't mean she doesn't have materia on her though. Every Turk involved with the cover up on that god-awful mess knows what she could once do because of the one scientifically embedded in her. Those abilities, mercifully may be gone. But then again, nothing's ever truly gone when it comes to these sorts of things and I wouldn't dare think she doesn't have better control of materia than I could ever hope to even get close to having. And I can freeze a shot glass of whisky from a hundred yards without shattering or cracking the glass for Gaia's sake. She makes that look pitiful at best with _any_ materia she has in hand at the time.

Not gonna lie. Verdot's just been ousted from his position as most threatening right now.

"You don't belong here," those dark green eyes hone in on me. "The Commander may think you do, but I don't. And your bird is just as unwelcome."

"You know something, Elfe," I curl my lip into a snarl. Either way I'm not getting out of this unscathed. "For the former leader of AVALANCHE, you're more of a bitch than I expected you'd be."

She bristles at the words but doesn't make any moves to retreat. Instead she steps closer and looks down at me.

"My group was feared. You turned it into a joke at best. Something for that miserable little pretty boy commanding Shinra to chase around for sport. At least I didn't let an entire plate fall on innocent people."

I'm on my feet before she can even finish the sentence, teeth bared and staring up at her dark eyes with my haunting amber ones. "One warning. Don't go there."

"You're less of a Turk than I expected after all. Not sure what the Commander sees in you but listen and listen well. You don't belong here. And if it wasn't for the fact that you used _my_ framework in AVALANCHE to create whatever that miserable excuse for a group running around causing trouble for Shinra is now, I'd be more than willing to deal with you myself, with or without the Commander's approval."

"I'd wager that 'miserable little group' over yours any day Elfe." Right now, they're the only ones who stand a chance.

"So it would seem." She doesn't break eye contact. "But they can't stop that Meteor any more than they could've stopped the plate from falling."

"They can." I growl. "And they will."

"You really believe that, don't you." She offers up another stoic attempt at a smirk. "Well I'd lose that false hope because they can't and you know it. The others are just too nice to tell you what the Commander knows you should already know. False hope is a waste of time and you're doing no one any favors by giving into that logic."

"And you're not doing anyone any favors by harassing me over something that doesn't even involve you." The growl tinges my voice and I clench my fists in frustration. "I'll believe what I damn well please."

"The Commander begs to differ."

"Does it look like I really give a damn? No. Because I don't. He can believe what he wants to. I'll believe what I want to. _I_ don't even _want_ to be here because while you may not know it or even care, I have other, far more important things to do than stand here and argue with you."

"So you'd like to think. Listen and listen well, little wannabe Turk." She circles me like the mountain cat she reminds me of. "This isn't your territory and I don't care if you are part of this 'family' as they see you as. I don't care that the Commander took you back in after the mess you've made and I don't agree with his actions. This isn't your home and it never will be. And you better hope your little group can stop that Meteor because if you're not gone before it hits, I'll be more than happy to finish you off because like it or not, this is _your_ fault."

The inner watchdog snarls at the woman. My fault? That's it. This has gone way too far now.

"Get out." I grit my teeth.

She frowns. "I expect you gone by morning."

"Can't happen soon enough. Now leave me the hell alone."

Mercifully, she turns and finally leaves before our little growling match can wake the entire household and bring the others snooping around to see what's going on. It weighs heavy on my mind long after the door finally closes and both Turk and rebel are on edge in case she returns.

I'll have to watch out for her. But how to get my weapon back and out of here quickly. More importantly, with her prowling around, I'm not too confident that Marlene and Elmyra will be safe with this group now either. Turks I can deal with. Elfe is the last person I expected to blindside me.

_Oh you know how to get your weapon back_, the watchdog warns. Well played, Verdot. Well played indeed.

Sleep doesn't come easily and the few hours I do manage to get are soon interrupted by the unmistakable morning routine of Turks going about their day. Some are likely heading to bed while others are just starting theirs. It's also the sort of routine I dread because I have work to do as well, starting with Verdot.

Mercifully, Elfe is nowhere to be seen. I step into the hallway and try to put the conversation behind me. It's impossible though and her words still grate.

"Something's bothering you this morning." Lilian finds me in the hallway en route to the stairs.

"It's nothing."

She cringes. "I take it you met Elfe."

"It's none of your business." I stalk past her wanting nothing more than to get this over with.

"Yeah, you met her." She hurries alongside me. "Don't let her bother you too much, Cissnei. She's difficult to get along with in general and tolerates us only because the Commander asked her to. At least she didn't do to you what she did to Thomas the first time he met her."

I glance up at her, somewhat thankful and curious that I'm not the only one. "What did she do?"

"Made him sleep outside on the back porch. And of course. It rained so we never heard the end of it. She even managed to oust Kristen and Beatrice from the _entire_ second floor for a good two weeks in their first encounter with her because well, let's just say Elfe found their overbearing nosiness immature at best and it took the Commander's intervention to reclaim the upstairs for them."

Sheesh. Makes me glad I don't actually live here. I'm not sure how long I'd be able to put up with that since one night was more than enough to make me _want_ to find Verdot.

"And I do recall a few times when Sano and myself have faced her wrath. She's not easy to get along with but she _is_ the Commander's daughter and for the most part, we manage to coexist in the same house with few problems. I'm somewhat surprised you managed to fare as well as you did against her."

"Where's Verdot."

"Or…maybe not. Look, I know you're having trouble adjusting to the situation, but give it some time—"

I turn and look at her, holding back a growl because I respect her too much. "I don't want advice, or even to fit in. I just want to find him, get my damn lecture out of the way and by some merciful possibility, maybe, just maybe get Rekka back and be on my way since clearly, this isn't the best place for me to be right now. Okay?"

Lilian cringes. "He tapped your phone, didn't he?"

"Yes." A quick scowl in her direction. "Don't look like you're surprised I found out. Verdot isn't."

"In all honesty, you figured it out a lot quicker than many of us. Thomas still doesn't know his is and Beatrice is just as oblivious to her less than private chatter."

"Gaia's sakes, Lilian." I sigh and keep my words calm because this isn't her fault. "You really have no idea what I used to do in the Turks, do you?"

"If we go by Thomas's account," she smirks. "Spend lots of time roaming Modeoheim and playing in the snow."

"Somedays I'd give anything and everything for those days," I shake my head and look up at her. "It's a lot more complicated than that. Great Migration? Yeah, I'm the reason no one followed the pack or found you all. If it could be hacked, covered and hidden, I was involved."

Lilian looks at me. "You seemed awfully surprised to see us."

"Just because I covered everyone's tracks doesn't mean I bothered to find out where everyone went. Wasn't my problem and honestly, it's still none of my business."

"Can I ask you a question, Cissnei," she keeps her tone gentle and kind like she's always been. "Why did you really stay behind? I won't tell Beatrice or Kristen anything. I won't even tell Thomas or Sano. I'm just curious."

Why I stayed behind…I try not to think about Zack and the rest of the mess of what would become known as the Fair-Strife Case or that Verdot scares the hell out of me thousandfold more than Tseng ever could. With a sigh, I glance up at her once again and shake my head, both watchdog and fox settling on the same excuse.

"Because I had people to protect."

She raises an eyebrow, silently prodding for specifics. If she wasn't one of the nicer Turks and not as entrenched in the rumor mill, I wouldn't even give her that. But unlike Beatrice and Kristen, she really won't tell the others.

"No, he wasn't a boyfriend and it wasn't at all like that. He was my friend and yes, he was a SOLDIER. But that's all buried in the past now. Forever."

She draws a sharp breath as if surprised by the whole mess and eyes the scars on me as well as my eyes. I look away.

"I can't stay here, Lilian. There's still 'business' to settle between myself and the Head Bitch of Weapons Research who created this mess and since my friend can't settle it, I will."

A short, hesitant nod. No doubt Lilian understands the situation more than she lets on as she's lost people in the past herself. Her old partner, Margaret, being one of them.

"One day." She says as if it's really that simple. "Give it one day and I'll see to it that you get Rekka back. Even if Verdot doesn't approve."

Her words catch me off-guard. The last thing, but by no means unwelcome, I'd expected today was someone like Lilian actually offering her help. I'd be a fool not to accept her help at this stage.

"One day," I tell her with a nod. "And then I have to leave. The longer I stay, the more dangerous it is for everyone else. I don't want to lose anyone else."

She smiles a genuine smile and nods. "Good. That'll give me some time to work with. Now, you had a meeting with Verdot to get to?"

I cringe, not at all thrilled about the idea of confronting him. Leaving might be sooner than I planned after all. "Yes."

"Down the hallway, last door on the left." She turns and glances over her shoulder. "He takes his tea around this time and Elfe's usually out prowling the town so she won't bother you. Good luck, Cissnei, and try not to get into trouble, not that you need to be reminded."


End file.
